Twelve days in August
by dominiquesdh
Summary: We read the year 1801. August the 1st, French troops came ashore in Brighton. Nobody could stop them and five days later the news are reaching Pemberley while Geoffroy d'Arcy, French commander in chief, meets Jane in Rosings. Not without consequences.
1. Bad news indeed!

**Titel_: Twelve days in August_**

**Author**: dominiquesdh

**Theme**: Alternate Universe – Historical drama - Romance (free variation based on Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice. This fanfic takes its liberty with P&P at book III chapter II)

**Summary**: We read the year 1801. On August the first, French troops came ashore in Brighton. Nobody was able to stop them and five days later (Wednesday the 5th) the news are reaching Pemberley. That same day, Geoffroy d'Arcy, commander in chief of the invading troops is calling a visit to his aunt in Rosings. There he encounters a certain Jane Bennet and this encounter will have consequences.  
(Cast: all traditional characters of Jane Austen's P&P, a few new ones, including d'Arcy and a few historic figures such as George, Prince of Wales and Napoleon, Premier Consul de la République Française...)

**Disclaimer** : The characters I serve here are Jane Austen's but after two centuries they belong to all of us. Only those few I created belong to me and I hope they'll bring something interesting to the story.

**Remarks:**  
My story is based on Jane Auten's book and the 2005 movie. The cast is the movie's and there will be no recasting even if I prefer Jennifer Ehle and Benjamin Whithrow as actors in this setting.  
Elizabeth Bennet/Darcy and Fitzwilliam are important characters of the plot but they are not the most important ones.  
This fanfic orbits around Jane Bennet and Geoffroy d'Arcy. You'll see plenty of stuff where the Bennet/Gardiner family is playing an important role but in the end it's** _Jane's_ story**.  
And you'll soon see that she is not quite so "_colorless_" as in most of the fictions where she appears. I wanted her strong and forthright and not so transparent as usually depicted.  
But I won't transform her in a warrior queen or martial artist. She will still be Jane Bennet, but no longer tame and spiritless Jane. You'll find a lot of Lizzie in _that_ Jane.  
You're warned, so don't be too surprised…

Thousand thanks to all reviewers and their kind comments. I answer whenever I can and almost always to signed in reviewers (it's easier, a simple link to click on...). And for those I didn't have the opportunity to give direct answers, I'll go on not only with this first tome but I have lots of ideas for sequels... Don't worry Jane will have plenty of opportunities to show that she's as witty as Lizzie.

**Previews** :

A (different) version of this fanfic already exists in French and to rewrite it in English is much less of a challenge that I initially feared..

I'm no English native speaker and from time to time failures (let's hope tiny ones) will slip into my texts. Please let me know if there's a better way to say it in English…

As of now (chapter 44) I have a beta reader. Let's thank Lynette who volunteered to do the editing work for me (my grammar is not the best even if I'm able to get the message over). A triple "hooray" for her...

I'll use US spelling; let's hope my readers from the new French "departments" will forgive me for that.

The French fanfic has 150 000 words and 61 chapters. This one will have 57 chapters and just under 166 000 words. As such, even with chapters I eliminated because they brought nothing to the characterization of the plot, it is longer and denser than his French counterpart. Clearly it's not a translation but a very different work, while some parts have disappeared, some chapters have blossomed without my permission and a few sub plots have gained more precision.

This first part is now completed. All 57 chapters are posted and the story has found its own life. It was very kind of you to read my story and it was even kinder for those of you whe encouraged me with their comments. It helps a lot to have a feed back to pull you into going on. As said it was quite an adventure. I'm very proud to have steered my characters to a safe haven. I thank everyone of my readers and even more all those who took the time to send reviews to comment (a few), encourage (everybody) and criticize (very very few but they always gave me hints on what to do to make the story better). Perhaps you'll make me the honour of following me into my next story.

* * *

_**SPOILER out of chapter 37**_:

Featherlight strokes had come to her, becoming marvelous dreamed experiences. Kisses, so light she had to force herself to remember them, had be all over her face.

A smile lighted up her sleeping face.

Since she was dreaming, could she dream of what she really lusted for?

It was her dream, wasn't it? Within it's cloudy boundaries, she could behave as she willed it.

Even a little wanton behavior could be tried...

Nobody would ever know.

Her smile grew and her sleep became more agitated.

The light touches became caresses and kisses and she could even feel the light breeze of a breath fondling her skin.

A very smooth thing slided over her smiling lips.

It came and turned. Came again. Became more forward and parted her lips.

Out of sheer reflex her tongue shot out of the cage of her teeth to go and meet the intruder.

Their meeting was the strangest thing which had ever happened to her.

Like a subtle dance of touches and strokes.

Like...

He eyes shot open.

That was not a dream!

* * *

**_SPOILER out of chapter 54 Pemberley Night Stalker_**:

Jane purred her satisfaction.

She just had had the most satisfactory dream.

And even in that delicious moment between dream and awakening, that dream went on. She could still feel his fragrance, feel his skin under her cheek and the reassuring rumble of his heart.

She sighed and let her finger glide over the warm surface of her pillow.

In her dream it had the softness of a skin and smoothness of the softest of silk...

She smiled and pulled it against her.

Nothing happened.

She tried again...

There was a soft grumble coming from her pillow.

Her smile increased when she felt a finger crawl on her shoulder.

It journeyed to her breast and stole itself to her nipple who revealed itself as traitorous as always...

"I don't know if you do it on purpose but it seems to me that it has become your habit to invade my dreams..."

* * *

**Chapter one: Bad news indeed!**

**Lambton, Derbyshire, Wednesday august the fifth 1801**

The door of the inn just shut behind them and Fitzwilliam Darcy could not master the smile which was invading his face.

It wouldn't disappear whatever willpower he tried to summon.

Georgiana could do nothing but look elsewhere so that her brother would be unable to notice her own smile. Probably as happy as him, she was looking forward for his –mumbled– explanations.

This very moring, she had no idea what would happen to her when Fitzwilliam proved himself so persuasive in taking her with him to Lambton.

She knew it was something important for him but she had no idea he would introduce her to her future sister.

She looked discreetly up to him and mustered all her strong will not to burst out laughing.

Clearly, in his dreams he was still upstairs with Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

Miss Bennet who, judging by the way she looked at her brother the whole duration of their visit, was probably looking out of the windows burning holes in their backs at this very moment.

Those two had an understanding even if they hadn't acknowledged it formerly.

* * *

The sound of an approaching horse at full gallop threw both of them out of their daydreaming.

They looked at the rider and both recognized the Pemberley livery.

The horse was showing foam at the mouth and its heavy breathing was proof that its rider had used it against all the rules of honest husbandry.

Darcy's eyes were following the incoming rider and Georgiana could sense the mix of anger and concern radiating from her brother.

The rider, young Hawkings, reigned in before jumping from the horse and holding a letter toward the Master of Pemberley.

– An urgent message from your uncle, the earl Fitzwilliam, sir. It came directly by special courier from London. The courier awaits an answer in Pemberley. He will go back as soon as you can give it to him. He said nothing but he seemed mighty preoccupied.

Fitzwilliam looked at Hawkings with more than a little anger in the eyes.

The lad made a prayer that the letter contained sufficient important news to grant him forgiveness for mishandling the horse.

Darcy took the letter and opened it after crushing the seal.

Bingley having arrived with his own horse had stopped just before remounting it and was looking with interest at his friend.

For a second he saw the anger in his friend's face disappear to be replaced by an intense surprise and, but he could be wrong, fear…

It took a few seconds for Darcy to become his old self again. Never had Bingley saw his friend loose his composure for more than a second.

Bad news indeed!

Fitzwilliam gave himself the time to show a confidence he really no longer felt.

He then looked at his sister. Never had she seen him so cold and dedicated.

– Georgiana, I need you to go back to Elizabeth and her parents and convince them to go with you to Pemberley. Not only for tonight but to stay there as our guests! Do you believe you can handle this very important mission?

She looked at him with a certain amount of fear in the eyes. But her face was as calm as he could have wished. He was very proud with his sister.

– Of course, I can. But what is the matter? What says uncle Fitzwilliam? Is everybody safe?

Fitzwilliam closed his eyes and struggled to get himself back under control.

– Nothing personal! Nothing on a familial level! But it is as Hawkings said. It is important. Very important! And I really need Elizabeth and you to be in Pemberley as soon as possible.

He was tempted to be more precise but he refused to add anguish to the already upset feelings of his sister.

– I cannot be more specific, Georgiana. I'd like to but I cannot.

He Took the letter and gave it to her.

– Try to be very convincing, but, if you'd have problems convincing them, give this letter to Mister Gardiner and allow him to read it and to deal with the matter as he sees fit. But if at all possible don't do it this way. Try everything else. Insist that it is important, vital even and that, when I'm back from Derby I'll explain everything.

He took her into his arms and hugged her in a way he had never done in public.

– I hate myself to let you alone without being able to reassure you, but I need to get confirmation of these news from the authorities in Derby.

He looked her in the eyes.

– Georgiana, we are in no immediate danger, but I want you to go back to Pemberley as soon and as fast as possible. With, if possible, the Gardiners and Elizabeth or at least, if Mr. Gardiner insists on departing to London, with Mrs. Gardiner and Elizabeth!

He took hold of his sister's hands.

– Do whatever is necessary to get Elizabeth to Pemberley, please…

She looked up at him.

– Of course, Fitzwilliam, I'll do everything in my power, but please be open with me. Let me know what happened. I don't know if you are aware, but never, in my whole life, did I saw you so upset.

He forced himself to listen to his sister. He was aware that he had already said too much.

– Speak about it with nobody, Georgiana, I pray you. The information will sooner or later be disclosed but the more time we get, the better…

– Fitzwilliam!

He agreed and came closer in order to whisper in her ears.

– Stay calm and let nobody know what I'm going to reveal. Even Elizabeth and her aunt must ignore the news until I come back from Derby. I insist that you take the greatest precautions to appear as normal as possible. Nobody must have the slightest hint to guess what the matter with you is!

She agreed and made a prayer that she was not as pale as she felt.

– The French have invaded the Kingdom. They came ashore at Brighton four days ago and their army has crushed the troops stationed in the South. Troops have been sighted heading north toward London. At the time our uncle sent this letter, London was in uproar and those able to flee were preparing themselves to rush out of Town. I don't know how long the courier took to arrive but at this time the first refugees must be walking northward. Soon there will be no more open roads toward us.

He gazed his sister right into the eyes.

– Please do what has to be done but make sure that Elizabeth stays here. I couldn't stand to know her in danger on roads where Corsican raiders are plundering and ransacking voyagers.

Georgiana, bereft of speech, could only nod.

The news from their uncle were indeed very bad news. She was at the brink of collapsing when she was reminded that she had a mission. More than one mission!

She couldn't collapse in sight of everybody and allow a panic to burst out in Lambton. And she had to bring the Gardiners and Elizabeth to the safety of Pemberley.

She grasped her courage and gave a smile to her brother.

Thin and pale but a smile nevertheless.

He acknowledged her resolution and gave her a parting kiss.

She turned around and walked back into the Inn.

* * *

Bingley, as ever discreet and good mannered, choose the moment of her departure to cross the distance between his former position and Darcy.

– Darcy, my friend, what happened?

– A serious problem at the Estate, said Fitzwilliam. I'm going there now. Can I count on your company?

– Of course, I'm your man.

Darcy winked toward Hawkins who came immediately.

– I'm taking Thunder. You stay here with Georgiana and the new guests I just invited. For no reason are you to go back to Pemberley without them. I count on you.

Hawkings, very glad to come out of what could have been the end of his job at Pemberley with only a few harsh words, nodded his approval.

Ten seconds later, the two gentlemen were riding away at full speed.

* * *

– Miss Darcy, madam!

Everybody looked toward the entrance where the young miss Darcy was making an unexpected return.

Curiosity was very soon replaced with concern. Their young host was showing signs of being quite upset. Her hands were shaking and she was white as linen.

Elizabeth went immediately at her side and Georgiana made no effort to conceal that she was in quite an ordeal.

She was at the brink of collapsing and it gave her the credibility she needed.

– I'm very sorry to intrude again on you and to disturb you but my brother just received a letter from our uncle which forced him to go to Matlock immediately. And he was unable to give me a hint of when he will be back.

She looked toward Elizabeth and her eyes were naturally full of anguish.

– I don't know how to express myself but it would be important for me that, while Fitzwilliam is away, I could count on your presence at my side. At Pemberley stay only Caroline Bingley and the Hursts and I fear very much that, as usual, they will be of very poor comfort.

She turned to face Mrs. Gardiner.

– Would you accept to be my guests at Pemberley these next days? Having warm and merry people surrounding me would be of a great help while awaiting the return of Fitzwilliam. I was given the impression that you were staying in the County for a few more days. Would it be adequate for you to spend these days in Pemberley rather than at this inn?

Mrs. Gardiner looked at her husband.

She was more than a little surprised but she was also full of anticipation. One of her greatest wishes was about to become true. Mr. Gardiner could not ignore her feelings.

– Are you sure we won't intrude?

Miss Darcy could not hide her satisfaction.

– Of course not. I would not have asked if I had the slightest doubt. We already are prepared to welcome guests. Three more will have no consequences on the duties of the household.

She took Elizabeth's hand in hers.

– And be assured that having you at my side will be of tremendous importance.

Mr. Gardiner looked at his wife and at Elizabeth. Seeing no refusal there, he stood up.

– Well then, I'll see the innkeeper to inform him of our new program.

He looked at his wife.

– Could you look after the trunks? I'll be downstairs to get horses and carriage ready.

He bowed toward Georgiana.

– If everything goes well, in two hours you'll have us as guests at Pemberley.

* * *

As they arrived to the bridge, Darcy stopped his horse and waited till Bingley arrived at his side.

– I'm sorry, Charles but I fear I owe you an apology.

– An apology, Darcy? What for?

Fitzwilliam brought Thunder alongside of Bingley's chestnut and bowed toward him.

– Because I lied to you, Charles. But it was for the best and I'm sure you'll forgive me. I have a very sad truth to inform you about.

– Sad truth? Come on Darcy, what's the matter? You'd want to scare me you wouldn't do it otherwise.

– The Invasion we all feared, had taken place, Charles. The French came ashore in Brighton four days ago.

Even Bingley's sanguine face went pale as linen.

– Brighton? But there's where colonel Fitzwilliam went with his horse guards. It was where most of our troops where stationed for the summer.

– Seems it didn't stop the French. They came ashore there and following my uncle's letter nobody stopped them. They have been seen marching on London.

Bingley, of all strength bereft, had problems to stay on his chestnut.

– Goodness, bad news indeed.

He looked at Darcy.

– Four days you said ?

– Exactly. It happened in the night from the first to the second august. A baleful date if there is one.

– Aboukir?

– Exactly, three years ago we lost Nelson and his fleet in Egypt. It seems the French are developing a certain sense of black humor.

Bingley had difficulties to come out of his shock.

– What's going to happen, Darcy? With the French ashore we are in quite a difficult position. What troops are left to face them?

Fitzwilliam raked his fingers through his hair.

– I have no idea. What I'm going to do, is go to Pemberley, write an answer for my uncle, change horses and go to Derby to get fresh news. And, if something's organized, volunteer to be part of it.

He looked at his friend.

– You're not from this part of the country; I would understand your willingness to go where your roots are.

– Caroline and Louisa are here and the rest of the family is scattered everywhere in Great Britain. This is the part of our soil where I will make a stand. At your side, if you agree.

– It would be my pleasure, Charles.

* * *

**Next chapter** : Rosings Confrontation


	2. Rosings Confrontation

Well there's the second chapter. Introducing Geoffroy Aymé d'Arcy, Fitzwilliam's French cousin.

Featuring: Catherine de Bourgh, our favorite She-Dragon.

* * *

**Chapter two: Sauntering Tiger and Hissing Dragon**

* * *

_**Rosings, Kent, Wednesday August the fifth 1801**_

– I want the troops scattered all across the estate. If it's possible I want them hidden from roads and ways. They did better than I anticipated; now they need a few days rest. Let's make sure they get what they need.

He looked at the tired and smiling men who marched inside the estate.

– I want scooting parties as far as possible to the North, but I want them to stay southwards of the Thames River. I need to know what troops the English can muster to bring against us.

His secretary and aid nodded just before mounting his horse and riding away to the tents of the Head Quarters the "_troupes du genie_" were installing.

– It will be done…

Geoffroy d'Arcy, First Proconsul of the French Republic, in charge of external affairs looked a last time at his frock. The red coat with golden embroideries was not his favored suit but he had to stand up to his rank. And nothing better than a (pro)consul's costume to play the role. And a role he was going to play. Some people need to be impressed and he was not daft enough to believe that Lady de Bourgh would react kindly to anything less than the commander in chief of the French invasion army. If she was able to react kindly at all!

Normally, he would suit himself in much simpler clothes but since this was going to be an official visit, better to bear the symbols of his rank. Perhaps it would help.

He had his doubts but it was worth a try. He owed it to his uncle Lewis de Bourgh who, twenty five years earlier, provided him with help and money. He didn't need the money but the help was precious and kindly given. And d'Arcy never forgot a kind gesture.

Time to payback…

A noise made him turn around.

The carriages were arriving. A smile blossomed on his lips. Never would he have believed that the landing in Brighton would have been so easy. Of course, he had help within the English troops but never ever would he have forecast that the whole British army would be caught unaware and frolicking around campfires.

Thanks to the British Crown he had found everything he needed ready to be used –and often new– within the perimeter of Brighton. Horses, carriages, food and ammunitions, everything was handily prepped and ready to use.

He had had hopes but what he got at Brighton was more than what he would have bargained for. The British really had had no idea he was coming. Their troops were strolling around, just waiting and spending time whoring and gambling. Some of the militia soldiers were so drunk that his troops had to wait a whole day before getting them to move.

He could not fathom how the commanders of the British could survive such a defeat. He captured eleven generals and more than thirty colonels. Generals and colonels who, if everything went well after his departure were "en route" to Calais to be imprisoned in some very secured fortress. Where they would stay for a very long time!

Or perhaps not, since once out of Britain they no more were his responsibility!

And now, these carriages and their dangerous content have arrived and he could prepare his next steps.

But first things first! He had a call waiting.

He put on his coat and buttoned it with great care.

He showed himself to Kennedy, his Irish sergeant and body guard.

– How am I?

– Quite handsome! Would I be a lass, seeing you, I'd forgot my sweetheart…

D'Arcy could only smile at his words. He was sure Lady Catherine de Bourgh would not be as enthusiastic. But there was no return now. He and his armies were here and the least he could do was to present his greetings to the Mistress of Rosings. No reason for a general commanding fifty thousands men and who just happened to land victoriously in England to fear an old woman, was it?

He was still trying to convince himself when the butler opened for him Lady Catherine's parlor.

* * *

He took of his hat, put it under his left arm and bowed a very stiff bow.

– Geoffroy Aymé d'Arcy, madame. Votre serviteur !

A long time there was silence. He took the opportunity to study his "aunt".

She was as he remembered. Older, yet. And wrinkled everywhere. Even sitting she seemed to loom over the room. Even over him. He straighted himself up and looked her straight in the eyes. She clearly did not like his manners. She was in no way linked to his family but there she sat, straight and arrogant as was his father, as was his brother.

He loathed her immediately.

– I won't lie in saying that I welcome you, _monsieur_. I'd wish you and your goons would have been crushed on the beaches of my beloved England. Your blood would have been a welcome gift to the soil of my country.

He let his most contemptible smile show on his face. He knew that most people couldn't stand this peculiar smile. They soon lost their countenance and made failures.

She didn't even seem to notice it. He launched his next attack.

– There was nobody there able to crush us, madam. It seems that your _beloved __England_ was quite undefended. You should have come; your gaze would probably have had more effectiveness than the whole of your troops.

She acknowledged his words as a due compliment.

– Without a doubt, said she. Our military is…

She hesitated looking at him as if asking a question. After a few seconds, she took a decision.

– Was composed of complacent idiots who had no idea how to act if faced with a determined enemy. They all believed that the navy would sink the invading troops while still aboard their ships. I wager this has not happened. Your caught them with their breeches down… Probably dancing and whoring… Isn't it so?

He could do nothing but agree with her. She made a distasteful snort. He could take it for him or not… He chose not. They hadn't spoken five minutes and she was already grating with his nerves.

– So, yours was no victory, ours was the defeat.

_I should just shoot her. One bullet between the eyes and the problem would be resolved for ever. I didn't get papa, she would, perhaps, be a consolation?_

But family was important for him. Especially now with so few of them surviving! She would live. He would kill her only if she happened to annoy him very very much… Wich was not yet the case.

– I'm sorry not to agree. The fact that your troops were ill-prepared and ill-managed does not change the fact that we came ashore, took them by surprise and made all of them prisoners in less than three hours! I lost not one of my men to enemy fire. I call that a victory and a great one!

– You can bade yourself in illusions as long as you wills it, the facts, nevertheless, cannot be doubted. When there is no challenge, there is no Victory.

She looked him down.

– Or as said your pale copy of our Bard: "_A vaincre sans péril, on triomphe sans gloire_…"

_Now could be a good moment to shoot her, with Corneille's verse as an epitaph_.

He took hold of himself and tried to remember that Lewis de Bourgh was a kind and sympathetic man. Dead now and the cause of his death were probably in front of him.

Too kind to kill the reason for his unhappiness! He could perhaps do his dead uncle one last posthumous favor?

Once more he got himself under control. No, he would _not_ kill her. Not now, not ever! Because Lewis de Bourgh was a kind and good man who helped a distant cousin of France and because his daughter still needed a mother!

_Or is it so? Wouldn't she be better off without that shrew_? _Free at last_?

He inhaled slowly and with the air his anger subsided. But he was wary not to let his guard drop.

– The facts, Madame, are crystal clear. My troops _and I _are here, on your Estate, soon on our way to London. My troops _and I_ are soon to take your Town. My troops _and I_ are on the brink of making the remnants of English arrogance disappear for ever.

– Illusions, as I said, once romantic, ever romantic. Britain will stand up and fight against your troops and your troops _and you_ will run toward the shores where to be slaughtered by the canons of our fine ships of the Line. Do revel in your false sense of Victory. It won't last.

– We'll see who's lost herself in daydreams. I will make an oath to you. That within a month Rosings will no longer be situated in Kent but in a new French département. And I'll be very happy to introduce you to the new Praefect Paris will send to manage the Land. If you behave, I'll perhaps let you have a say in the département's new name.

– Petty feelings for petty men, said she. You're working with those who brought your father and brother to the guillotine. You should be ashamed of yourself.

– I'm more ashamed to be of the same blood than Augustin Marie d'Arcy than to work with those who had the good idea to bring his ugly career to an end. My father was a fraud, a killer and a rapist. He spent his entire life bullying the peasants and the maids. I would not be surprised if it had been one of his own bastards who brought him, finally, to the torturer. He got what he had coming and the day he lost his head will be marked in my memory as a very good one indeed. And more so since that very day these compassionate people happened to also behead my brother and my future brother in law. A very happy day to commemorate in the future…

His words finally got to Lady de Bourgh.

– Shame on you for using such words when speaking of your father. Shame on you to have been abroad when you should have been there to protect them! It seems that, with your skills, you could have made a difference. Where were you when your family needed you?

– Way too far away to be of any good. I didn't even know they were dead before coming back to France two years ago. Had I known that the French were culling their aristocracy, I would have come to help them, not to hinder them. I assure you I have shed no tear on the mass grave where papa and consorts slowly rot. Good riddance!

– You are a heartless monster.

– If so, you should stop taunting me. I could decide that you're of the same stuff than my dear father. And that I failed him is no guarantee for the survivors that I will also fail them.

– I'm not afraid. You're the petty tool of a petty tyrant. You went away at a time where the tides were changing and where everyone of the aristocracy was needed to resist against the swelling wave of malcontents. It was your duty to stay to fight against the rubble.

– It would have been my duty to put an end to a rotten and unjust system. Louis the XVIth was an idiot and his wife a fool. Look at yourself and ask yourself who is the superior; you who need a maid to dress or them who need nobody to do the simplest tasks you're unable to perform? If my memory is true, mama never could dress herself without the assistance of two maids…

– Shame on you to speak in such a manner of your poor mother. She died of sorrow in her poor London apartment. Alone and full of despair!

Catherine de Bourg shot him a disdainful look.

– And she was the lucky one. Your sister had to marry a merchant to survive. That's a fate I wouldn't wish to my worst enemy.

The polite smile on d'Arcy's face disappeared immediately. His eyes lost all brightness and his mouth became a mere colorless line.

– You could have given her enough money to get herself one of the Gentry. For a mere five thousand she would have been saved… You cannot reproach me what you refused to do. I know that uncle Lewis would have helped. _You_ didn't!

– The family Council took decisions. We helped.

– Fitzwilliam Darcy helped. He paid the debts and the costs of doctors and lodgings. It was also he who brought up the two thousands pounds to invest in my brother-in-law's business in Scotland. Thanks to him my sister and her family live a decent and happy life.

– The family Council agreed.

– Without paying back a shilling to Fitzwilliam and Georgiana.

– He is going to marry Anne. His money is _my_ money. I helped your sister!

– You're daydreaming once more. He will never marry Anne and she won't have him. They don't love each other.

– What's love to do in this matter. We are speaking family policy. Fitzwilliam will marry Anne and our two Estates will merge to become the greatest fortune of England.

D'Arcy couldn't stand it any more. He had tried to be peaceful. He had tried to be respectful. He just could not stand any more of her arguments.

– Forget your family policy, "aunt". Both your Estates, _all _your Estates, now belong to me and _only to me_. Before leaving Paris I saw to it with the Domaines. Everything which belongs to the Darcys, the Fitzwilliams and the de Bourghs is now my sole and only property. I did it in order to protect the family Estates against Napoleon's appetites. But I could use it also in another way. Pray, _dear aunt_ that I found no reason to sell the whole lot to some friends of Napoleon. He would like it very much and I, with each passing second, am sure that I would like it even more to see you living in the two rooms in Bradshaw Street where my mother died.

He pointed a finger toward her.

– And, _dear aunt_, I swear that you'll get exactly the same amount of money you offered her. I know, to the shilling, what each member of the family spent in favor of my mother and sister. What is sure, _dear aunt_, you will not die of having eaten too rich food.

For the last two years his agents had been roaming Britain to get information. They also got personal information about his family. Only Darcy had fought to have the family Council grant some help to his mother and sister. And most of what he and Georgiana gave was secretly given. Without the approval of the Council!

Thanks to them, his mother hasn't died of poverty or hunger. She had died of despair, unable to accept that her little golden world had been shattered into thousand pieces. Unable to understand that with living family all over England she had not been allowed to share their riches. Darcy would have taken her in. Catherine de Bourgh had fought against it. Probably to make sure that _his_ mother would not be in the way of _her_ daughter, eating _her_ new estate away!

He was on the brink of having her shot… No, he had a better idea. Much better! He could name his brother in law as the new Marquis de Rosings. Giving him, the petty merchant, everything belonging to Lady Catherine de Bourgh! The Manor, the park, the London House! Everything!

That would kill her more efficiently than a bullet through the head. And, as a matter of fact, he now owned the house where his mother died. He could give her the same two rooms his family used and he could offer the other lodgings to the ugliest, smelliest and noisiest people of all London. What a revenge _that_ would be!

A last time he took hold of himself.

He didn't like the old witch but he owed her husband and he would protect Anne even against himself. She would get what belongs to her. She would get Rosings as her legitimate legacy.

He lifted his hand in order to stop a new flow of complaints.

– I'm not here to speak of the past. I've come to show to my government that I can count on my family and that I'm welcome as a member of the family. It's the price you'll have to pay to stay rightfully owners of your Estates. I won't force you to behave, but please take into account that if proven to be enemies, you'll be treated as enemies. For now, I'll do as if you had accepted my presence and that of my men. I'm taking hold of Rosings' East Wing as my provisional Head Quarters. I won't distress you any more with presence. Please convey my greeting to your daughter and let her know that she's welcome to partake to my supper this evening. Since I believe we said to each other everything we ever want to say, I'll accept graciously your refusal to join to said meal.

He bowed much less profoundly than at his arrival.

– We will stay a day or two. Probably less if I get the information I need about the whereabouts of the remnants of the British troops. As soon as I know where they hide I'll go gather another of my unworthy victories.

He turned around and left Lady Catherine's parlor.

* * *

Next chapter: Mouse or Sparrow?


	3. Mouse or Sparrow?

The third chapter.  
Fearturing Anne de Bourgh; not quite the mouse she seems to be...

* * *

**Chapter three: Mouse or sparrow?**

* * *

_Rosings, Kent, Wednesday the fifth August 1801_

* * *

He finally decided to stay.

He had somebody else to see.

He went back and was immediately surrounded by two footmen and one butler.

He looked them down.

The footmen withered away under his gaze.

The butler, probably better trained, resisted.

– I'm to see Lady Anne.

– I don't think so, sir…

Their will clashed five second until d'Arcy's pistol found his way against the butler's nose.

– You sure?

The butler looked a little shaken but still would not yield.

– It would be better, said d'Arcy, for everybody if we could find a way to settle this little problem peacefully. I'd hate to spray your brain all over this hall. It's messy and I'm sure my _shaken_ relations with Lady Catherine would not survive your demise. And if our relations become even a little worse, I'm quite sure she will abuse me in ways that will lead to my taking very harsh measures against her. Perhaps even lethal!

The butler gulped a last time.

– A possibility might exist, sir.

– Alleluia, smiled d'Arcy. Could it be possible that this possibility of yours could come soon into fruition?

– I think so, but I need to ask Lady Anne if she is willing to see you…

– Do as you like, said d'Arcy putting his pistol back into his holster. I'll wait…

* * *

A few minutes later, the butler was back.

– Lady Anne is willing to see you.

– What a surprise! I feared _she_ would not be willing to see _me_.

The butler smiled a very thin smile.

– I was not sure such an answer would please you, sir, so _I_ insisted.

– And you did well, you did well.

D'Arcy showed the way.

– Would you guide me, please? I'm not sure I'm able to find my way after so many years.

– Of course, sir, if you'd please follow me.

* * *

– Monsieur d'Arcy, quel plaisir de vous rencontrer. (_what a pleasure to meet you_).

D'Arcy bowed toward the young girl who curtsied when he entered the little parlor.

An older woman greeted him but stayed in the background.

– It is my pleasure, Miss de Bourgh. I longed to meet the daughter of a very dear friend who helped me when I was in need.

– I never knew my father. He died when I was very young.

– Your loss, Miss. He was a very kind and thoughtful person. I knew him only for a few days but he gave me the image of a fine and educated gentleman. He would have been a perfect father. Had he lived…!

– He didn't and be sure I'm the one who regretted it most.

– I'm sorry, Miss, if my remark brought you sorrow.

– It didn't and I'm quite satisfied that you spoke to me about my father. Nobody never does! It seems my mother doesn't want him to be discussed in my presence.

She looked at him and at his "uniform".

– Strange clothing, what would it represent?

– It's a sort of uniform. Only four people in the world have the privilege to wear it. Sadly, I'm only the fourth in the picking order.

That drew out a smile.

– And who are the fortunate first three?

– Napoleon, Cambacéres and Lebrun, the three Consuls of the French Republic.

– Nice picking order indeed, said she.

– Difficult to find better, I concur. But at the end of the game, I'm still fourth.

– But first in Great Britain?

He could only nod.

– That's a truth, Miss de Bourgh. First in Great Britain!

She looked at him.

– A few minutes ago I didn't even know that you existed, sir. Only then discovered I your existence. And, at the same time, were I informed that you and your troops were just invading my country! Successfully invading my country!

– I must confess that it is the truth. But I must remind you that our countries are enemies and at war with each other since quite a few years. A few centuries, I should say! For a change, it's us who are invading you. A little revenge for the last time your soldiers came rampaging in the French countryside.

– It was a long time ago, if I remember well.

– Only if you consider the sole physical presence of your soldiers. Soldiers paid by the British Crown should count too and those where in France not so long ago. We tend to believe that it's quite the same, that it's not fair and rather cowardly to have other people –mercenaries– hired to fight your wars. As a result, since we French are quite impulsive and since we tend to be braggers, we chose to react by coming ourselves.

He looked at her and observed her. She was lighter built than her mother with finer features and bright blue eyes. Intelligent bright blue eyes!

She showed him a seat.

– Please seat yourself.

He bowed and took the proposed seat. As usual his sword did not find an easy place to rest.

She seated herself and looked at him.

– You are invading us, cousin. Some of the servants even say that you are arresting the members of the Gentry. Would it be that I'm on your list?

D'Arcy was quite satisfied to see that Anne had quite appealing habits. Having servants spying for you was a very smart way to collect interesting tidbits of information. He didn't do it naturally while he was at home, but in China he learned the hard way that not knowing what is happening in the surrounding area is a deadly failure.

He never forgot the lesson.

That Anne had the wisdom to discover it all by herself was quite amazing.

But even if he loathed her mother he could not deny that Catherine de Bourgh seemed to be an intelligent woman. A nasty, jealous, malicious and hateful –_but intelligent_– woman! If Anne got her mother's intelligence and had the wit to use it without turning into a shrew herself she could become quite an asset.

– The family is safe, cousin. I already lost too many of them to risk even one more. Even your mother should be safe if she restrains herself only a bit. I hope the other members of the family will be clever enough not to turn into my enemies. I want their neutrality, that's all. If they have the brains just to do that, they'll keep what is theirs.

She made a face.

– Some will not accept, cousin, I hope you realize that! Richard, for instance, is a colonel in the horse guards and he will never bend to your conditions. Fitzwilliam, too, who is way too honorable to join forces with an invader even if that invader is a member of the larger family, will never yield to you.

D'Arcy just smiled. He knew exactly what he could await from his cousin. He had a few aces in his game which could bring his cousin over to him.

– For the colonel, I am aware of the problem. He was the first member of the family I met here in England. He was in Brighton with quite a bunch of other officers, dancing and frolicking while I intruded in the little party. He was not very welcoming with me; we had a few unfriendly words in front of his fellow officers. Didn't like me coming and spoil their entertainment.

Anne could not hide her feelings. She had heard rumors brought in by refugees. They said that the French surprised the army's officers while drinking and... dancing. It was perhaps exaggerated but once more the system had shown its limits. Most of the officers, having bought their charges, had very little, if any, military experience or training!

With the result shown at Brighton!  
She tried sarcasm.

– Whatever happened we probably did not lose the elite of our military power.

He smiled at her attempt. He was quite satisfied to see that his young cousin had developed such skills even under the heavy smothering influence of her mother. She would be quite an interesting asset for his information gathering network.

– We knew they would not be here, Miss de Bourgh. Your best are abroad conquering foreign countries. It's a pity that while they steal someone else's homeland, I'm doing the same with theirs.

He smiled at her, trying to reassure her.

– Be not too afraid, there is also good news. Some of your generals managed to escape. With the help of our cousin Fitzwilliam, Anneley, Wolcott and Bryan were able to slip through my lines, steal a few horses and fled toward the North. I'm quite satisfied that the whole attempt was staged and completed under the supervision of our beloved cousin Fitzwilliam. I hope the General Head Quarter will welcome his involvement.

Anne looked at him and her eyes were suspicious.

– You seem rather satisfied with this escape. Would it be that you staged it yourself?

– No, it was really our cousin's work. It's however true that I could have stopped them just before they got to the horses. In fact, I gave them the horses. Had I not done so, I would have deprived his majesty George the Third of three very foolish and worthless generals. I couldn't do such an awful thing, now could I? The King would have been forced to appoint some new ones. And one is never sure that such a young officer will be as worthless as those he is replacing. Now, thanks God, England has some of his best generals back at the side of the King. I'm sure they will stage an efficient and thorough defense of the Isles. As proven in the past...

Anne's eyes looked at her cousin. She had to change her mind about him.

When she first saw him, she believed him a worthless and ambitious politician.

That was clearly not the case.

He was clever and devious. And he knew what he wanted.

They appraised each other for a very long time.

– You are a very dangerous man, cousin. I'm afraid our leaders have no idea what's coming against them. I fear they will lose a lot of time underestimating you.

– That's the way the game is played, dear cousin. I did nothing but prepare this campaign for the last two years. I could have won a few battles for the Directory but that was not our real goal. What we wanted was England and now that I'm here, I'm staying till the bitter end.

– One day they'll have a correct assessment of you.

– Sure, but each day they wonder is a day my armies occupy more land. And, at a certain point, there will no more be a turning point.

– You seem certain that the Victory will be yours.

– I'm certain! My last doubt disappeared when I got my fifty thousand veterans on British soil. The difficult part was to arrive and disembark. The easy part I'm doing now. Mopping up!

– You're quite a soldier, cousin. I hope you're wrong but I fear you're right.

He bowed to the compliment.

– Thanks, cousin, but please stop it there. I do not react well to flattery. I do not have common place motivations. Power and riches do no interest me. I have a vision. A vision of a united Europe under the rule of an unique Leader.

He stood up.

– My goal is clear and, if you have the opportunity, you're authorize to send this information as high as possible toward your Crown. But I'm quite certain that even if you give them everything, they won't believe a mere girl. They'll never even consider that you could be useful.

He shook his head.

-- We had no choice, cousin. The British Empire was launching wave after wave of new mercenaries against France. If we had not react by coming into the fiend's den, we would have been destroyed in the end. It was a matter of survival. We, that is Napoleon and I, we chose to stop defending ourselves and go into the offense. That's why I'm here, to smother a snake that kept trying to bite us in the...

He did hesitate.

– ...Back, said he finally. Let's be very clear: I'm not interested in ruining this country. I'll never accept that my troops burn, destroy or pillage the land. I'm not here to destroy what took you --us-- a thousand years to build.

He fumbled with his sword.

A very unusual sword. More like those Japanese two handed swords than the European sabers British officers fancied.

-- I've spend one whole year to form the soldiers of my armies. They all know enough of English to understand what common people have to say. They all know that I'll personally emasculate every rapist who used the force I gave to him to act against my orders.

He looked at the window before looking back to her.

-- A country is much more than buildings and infrastructure. A country is made of people and I need to get this people at my side. There will be no massacres and there will be no plundering. My men will respect private property and the rights of the people. I really do believe that Human Rights are our legacy to the world. I have brought them as a gift to the people of the British Isles. And I'll respect these laws. And with the people at my side, England will prosper and join a new Era.

– Quite a speech, cousin.

– Quite a goal, cousin. I do believe in the strength of the people, cousin. It's the people which make a Land and not the reverse. If the people join me, the Land will be mine. Hopefully without bloodshed!

Anne agreed.

He was, again, fumbling with his sword. As if he was preparing himself to rise.

She knew this first meeting was coming to an end.

He came to appraise her.

Doing so, he gave her the opportunity to do the same.

Her first conclusion was nefarious. This man, her cousin, was bad news for her country. If the Corsican Tyrant had a reputation for strategy and organization, he was clearly not the only asset France has to present in this field.

And this one was as good as unknown.

He stood up.

She smiled at him and he responded with a charming bow.

He was manipulating her.

Normally, she would be the one manipulating. She had had plenty of training with her mother and the rest of the staff. This time, for a change, she was encountering a master in her field.

He was subtly pushing her in a certain direction.

He was trying to get something from her. And, she had really no idea what it could be.

Was he pushing her to work against him or to chose his side?

She was at a loss.

She would have to wait the dinner party in the East Wing to get a better idea of what was happening here.

He flashed a smile in her direction.

– I really am glad to have had the opportunity to make your acquaintance. I hope you'll be so free as to accept my invitation for dinner. Meanwhile, I'll have to look after a few military matters.

He bowed once more and opened the door.

– Au plaisir, ma chère cousine. Eight o'clock. East Wing! I'll send some men to get you.

He went out and his smile did not, as usual after a business encounter, disappear at once.

Finally he would be able to pay his debt to his uncle...

* * *

**Next chapter:** _Guardian Angels_

Featuring d'Arcy, Mary and Jane Bennet, Charlotte Collins and Maria Lucas

It's a tough one and it will take some time... Next week sure...


	4. Guardian Angels

The first encounter of the strange type between d'Arcy and Miss Bennet.

* * *

**Chapter four: Guardian Angels**

**Rosings, Kent, wednesday, august the fifth 1801**

* * *

He was remounting when he heard a distant noise.

A woman's scream.

Just afterwards he heard another one. Not the same voice. He was sure.

And not the same intonation. The first spoke of fear, the second of anger and determination.

Then he heard laughter. At least three men laughing.

That was bad news. He had ten thousand men within two miles and there was always a few rascals who were convinced that they would get through with any mischief they launched.

And he did not like the idea that some of his men had taken liberties with the orders he gave. If some of them had forgotten his orders he had quite a few nasty ways to remind them of their duties.

He took the general direction of the shouts and laughters.

* * *

Charlotte was cursing like never before.

What a fool she had been to believe that the way between Hunsford and Rosings would be safe.

She should have known better. But with the soldiers storming Hunsford and arresting her William she could only think of Rosings and Lady de Bourgh. If someone could help, it would be her.

She knew everything about everybody. She would help.

Surely...

With so many soldiers roaming the countryside, she had been sure that everyone would have been hiding. And Jane wouldn't let her go alone and both their sisters were too afraid to stay at Hunsford alone.

So they went, four women alone on a track of two miles.

And then she saw them, hiding in the woods probably looking for some roguery to do while the French were here to take the blame.

And they saw them and immediately stormed out of their hiding place to corner them against a group of trees.

Without her the other three could have fled but when Jane chose to stay and to fight, her sister and Maria stayed also.

And now they were surrounded.

Obadiah Wilkins, the first one to come close got Jane's staff around the face and he was now trying to stop the blood flowing of his wounded scalp.

Jane hadn't pondered a second. He came near enough and she stroked. With all the might she could muster.

Surprised, he ad been unable to dodge or block the blow.

Unluckily for them, the blow was not strong enough to make him pass out.

He was, in a way of speaking, out of the fight but four of them remained and what had happened to Wilkins was clearly not enough to convince them to retreat.

Luckily, what happened to Wilkins did not make the remaining men angry.

They laughed at his ordeal and caustic remarks were raining upon him.

After all, he could have waited to be under the protection of Crabbs' Blunderbuss. With the gun under her nose, she would probably have yielded without even trying to strike.

So it was his fault and they found his misfortune more than funny.

* * *

He made the distance in less than a minute. And stopped.

There were five of them. Not soldiers. Probably English ragtag in search of an opportunity to have fun while blaming his men.

He looked at the crime scene and assessed his chances.

Ragtag, not a problem for any real soldier. No problem for him. Even if they all had guns.

Didn't seem so. Only one gun could be seen.

One of them was holding a blunderbuss, a dangerous looking gun with an ugly open barrel. Not a very subtle weapon but very dangerous at close range.

Barrel which was pointed toward a group of four women.

One was pregnant and holding her belly while leaning against a tree.

Just before her stood a pair of girls, one blond, one brown.

And a few inches before everybody, holding --very badly-- a staff, stood a blond haired warrior who was scrutinizing the five rascals with fiery eyes and a jaw set for a fight.

D'Arcy could only admire the young woman. She knew, evidently, nothing about weapon handling but she was a natural and one of her aggressors had already got a feeling of her staff handling.

And he could see in her eyes that she had perfectly assessed the situation.

Those men would show no mercy. Not with French soldiers to get the blame for their actions in the vicinity.

But she would not go down without a fight.

At this precise moment he decided that she would not go down at all.

Slowly, without even making the hint of a noise, he began to creep up behind them.

* * *

Charlotte was desperate but she was not out of her mind. She never lost sight of their surroundings and her eyes were seeing everything happening around them.

She saw the shadow coming out of the woods and creeping toward them.

He was shedding his hat and his --red-- coat and was approaching as silently as a shadow. Without his red coat she would probably not have noticed his approach.

Now, in gray and brown, he was blending into the shadows of the landscape.

Their eye met and he smiled at her.

A shiver climbed down her spine. It was the smile of a predator and she could see in his eyes that he was longing for the kill.

Would tigers smile, they would probably smile like that when crouching toward their prey.

She nevertheless thanked God for sending help. God knew what they needed and what he sent was what would be of use to them.

Reassured, she went back to the scene before her.

* * *

Jane was focused on the men surrounding them.

Each of their move was followed by her staff. She couldn't cover everyone of them but she did as best she could.

Charlotte was rather astonished by Jane's reaction. Never in her whole life has she seen her best friend's sister react in an unwomanly fashion.

Never would she have imagined seeing protective, caring and delicate Jane standing up against five determined men.

But clearly there were facets of Jane Bennet she never had had the opportunity to notice.

* * *

Crabbs, feeling his amusement about Wilkins misfortune fade, was becoming angrier by the moment.

Sure, his Blunderbuss should have been enough to compel these lovely lassies into submission. But, the blond at the front was, clearly, not ready to give in.

Time to bring in some nasty threats.

"Times are a changing, Ladies. The Froggies have come and they are arresting and deporting the men of the Gentry. You are alone and defenseless. Time to find new protectors".

"We'd be perfect for such a role", said Watts an sailor come inland to escape Navy's Press-gangs. "Handsome, strong and clever..."

He was only one of a lot who fled the coastal areas to avoid being caught and forced onto a ship of His Majesty George the Third. Now that war has, once more, been declared against France, a Navy's ship was no longer a safe haven to grow old.

And battle at sea tend to promote ugly injuries and sudden deaths.

Drummont couldn't stay put and made a few raunchy comments about his manhood.

As usual, Wilkins not included --he was still heavily bleeding-- the rogues burst out in laughter.

* * *

He was now a few yards behind them.

They were focused on their prey and had no idea he was there ready to jump them.

He could see that he Ladies were in no immediate danger. The filth he was looking at had no real desire to be hurt once more. They would threaten a bit more and, in the end, try to disarm the blond staff carrier.

They could not and would not fire.

Not with ten thousand nervous French troopers not a mile away.

But accidents occur and one of those could very probably end with the handsome young Lady with the staff cut in half by an unlucky shot.

One of the men tried to approach and the staff bearer turned to face him. Her staff flew forward and the man dodged the blow with his hand and the impact made d'Arcy's teeth grit.

For the first time Geoffroy d'Arcy got a real sight of her.

Handsome was not enough a word.

She was everything he lusted for in his Asian years. Fair, blond, beautiful and blue eyed. And resolute, focused and devoted. The perfect woman to join him in his quest.

He stood there as thunderstruck.

Never ever had a girl had such an effect on him.

He was just daydreaming when one of the men got hold of her staff.

He was about to jump into the fray when he saw the villain jump back his hands covering his groin.

_Yeah, go on, show them that you're not to be bullied_.

He was quite glad that she was able to stop the last attempt without his help.

He wanted to intervene but he wanted it to be a grand entrée.

A show able to impress her once and for all.

He would jump them, but not from behind.

He would let them know there was a real foe to fight.

He felt that she would appreciate it if he gave them a fighting chance.

A moment he was tempted to went in without any weapon.

But reason caught on.

The Blunderbuss was a nasty and dangerous weapon. It could be fired by accident and nobody could predict what would be hit.

No, swordsmanship it would be.

The kick to the groin was seen as funny by those who didn't get kicked and new laughter had erupted in the group.

But it didn't last. The Blunderbuss bearer walked out of the group and directed the barrel of his rifle in the general direction of the pregnant woman.

"Enough of that", said he. "Either you let fall the staff or I'm going to shoot mummy there the whole load in the belly. In her state, it's sure she wouldn't be a lot of fun, would she now? Do I make myself clearly understood?"

The blond shot him a look of pure spite.

"And when your gun is empty, I'll pop your eyes out of your sockets. And you'd be the lucky one, since you'll be spared the look of the thousand Frenchmen encamped around us gathering here to see what's happening. I wonder what they would think of five villains like you trying to make mischief while they are around..."

D'Arcy found another reason to like her. Not only was she beautiful and courageous and devoted, she was also clever. Not every time the best combination in a woman, but for _this_ d'Arcy the best could only be just enough.

_Time to put an end to the show_.

"And, if you allow me to be so blunt, the real danger is behind you..."

All five of the rascals jumped out of their skin and immediately turned around in quite a comical manner.

A second after his address, nine pairs of eyes were looking at him.

He couldn't resist.

He bowed.

* * *

Jane was sure. A second before, there was nobody at the place she was now looking at.

And now there stood a man.

Tall, brawny, blue eyed and with long brown hair, leaning confidently on a scabbarded longsword.

And, she was sure of it, he was flashing at her the most shameless grin she had ever witnessed.

* * *

There was havoc within the band of goons.

They had no idea what to do and had a few difficulties to choose between outright escape, facing the new threat and assaulting their prey.

Finally they decided to face him.

With two guns.

The Blunderbuss and a pistol the head injured rascal was holding with the hand not clasp again the head injury.

They stopped going everywhere and, finally, found where to stay.

D'Arcy began to visualize the way he would have to walk to dispose of the most dangerous threats.

_Time to increase the odds_.

"Please Ladies, I do believe these gentlemen will no longer have the leisure to harass you. If I could be so bolt as to invite you to go on and walk toward Rosings at your best speed?"

"Never," said the pistol bearer. "You all stay where you are. The first who makes a step is dead."

And, in order to give his threat some bone, he turned his pistol toward his former prey.

_Perfect, one immediate threat out of the way... Time to show-off_.

* * *

Jane, her eyes on Wilkins who was threatening her, only saw a blur of movement coming toward her. She heard a hissing sound followed by a whistling, a poking sound, another whistling, this time followed by a crunch.

And Wilkins' hand just fall to the ground, still holding the pistol. And when she lifted her eyes from the severed hand she saw the stump of the arm spitting blood in her direction.

Her mind seemed to hesitate a fraction of a second and then everything went dark.

* * *

Wilkins, wide eyed and open mouthed could not detach his eyes from his hand.

His hand, still holding his pistol, lying on the ground one yard from his feet. He howled like a madman, took hold of his blood sputtering stump and began to run as fast as he could. The fact that Crabbs' empty eyes had been looking at him from the ground had not been good for his sanity.

* * *

D'Arcy's second movement brought him between the Ladies and what remained of the attackers. With one swift kick, he sent the severed head under a scrub and even before the blond could reach the ground, he was able to catch her. Slowly he let her slip to the ground, while, all the time looking at the three surviving bandits. He had still his sword in his left hand and his eyes were as cold as the steel of his weapon.

They had no problem getting his message.

Very slowly they opened their hands and forks, staffs and knifes fell to the ground.

"Please, make yourself scarce," said d'Arcy, "and do not stop running away for a very long time. I would be very angry if I ever see your ugly faces again. And I tend to overreact when I'm angry."

They didn't need a more precise invitation.

They disappeared in the woods without delay.

* * *

D'Arcy cleaned his sword, sheated it, throw the blooded handkerchief over the severed hand and dismantled both guns before looking at the three remaining upright Ladies.

"Sorry for the mess, but I believe speed was of the essence. Even in the hands of idiots, guns and rifles can be deadly weapons. I could not take the risk of one of you taking a stray bullet."

Finally, he knelt at the blond's side and put his fingers again her throat. He felt her pulse. Clear and strong! A smile brightened his face.

"She's only passed out. She'll soon be back with us."

He looked at the future mother whose age gave her authority over the little group of girls and women.

"May I have your authorization to carry her to the Manor house? I fear my unbecomingly behavior was the reason for her fainting. And I do believe we should be moving."

Charlotte made a curtsy in his direction.

"We would be very glad, Sir. And we are in your debt for the welcome help you saw fit to provide us. We were in a dire situation".

"You had your own Guardian Angel," said d'Arcy with a smile. "I'm sure she would have fought them to the end."

Charlotte acknowledged his compliment in the name of Jane and looked toward the bloodied handkerchief and the now invisible head.

"They would have..."

She could not be more precise it in front of her sister and Mary. He just nodded.

"It happens every time that some people choose to seize every opportunity in a difficult period. Happily I heard you shout. I came immediately."

He slipped his arms under her knees and her back and stood up with _her _in his arms.

With his chin he pointed toward his coat and hat lying not very far away beside a tree.

"Could someone get my things? They are still of use and I'd hate to see them stolen."

As the black haired girl walked just in the right direction, he thanked her with a nod.

He didn't try to see their reaction to his coat and headgear. Perhaps they would fail to recognize what the symbols meant.

* * *

**Next chapter** : Tête à tête


	5. Tête à tête

* * *

They finally met. Let's hear what they have to say to each other...

* * *

**Chapter five: Tête à tête**

**Rosings, Kent, wednesday, august the fifth 1801**

* * *

He was beginning his walk when he saw her open her eyes.

She immediately shut them again.

"I saw you, no use to stay fainted..."

He felt that she shivered. A slit opened in her right eye and he knew that she was studying him. The tip of here tongue could be seen through her closed lips and he had to crunch very ungentlemanly feelings which shot through his mind.

She finally opened her eyes and looked at him.

"Could you please let me down," whispered she.

She had a voice in total adequacy with her looks. Warm, delicate and full of that inner strength one finds with those people who live in peace with themselves.

"I would and could never have such an awful behavior."

She looked at him, surprise in her eyes.

He decided to explain.

"I never let down a Lady, it's my pleasure to be at her service."

The shadow of a smile crossed her lips.

"I meant, being again able to walk all by myself, I could be put back on my feet."

He looked at her with gleaming eyes.

"I could but I won't."

"That's not very gentleman like, Sir."

He smiled at her.

"I know but I fear I'm not in the mood to be obedient. "

"I insist..."

"I'm sorry, Miss, but even if I had the wish to do such a foolish thing as letting you escape the safety of my arms, I fear letting you down is the one thing I will ever refuse to do. "

She got the double meaning and he had the pleasure to see her flush.

He decided he didn't want her to find other arguments.

"You are weightless and I'm quite sure I could walk with you in my arms till the end of the world without ever feeling even a trace of weariness."

Her blush deepened. He loved it...

"If for nothing else, Sir, please do take my reputation into account..."

"Your reputation fears nothing. We are in the open, you're not alone with me and you just fought against five miscreants. I cannot, as a true gentleman, take a risk with your safety. Let me remind you that you fainted. It could happen again and, this time, you could hurt yourself. "

He saw her set her jaw as she had done during the fight.

"It remains improper, Sir..."

"I'll kill each and everyone who dare say anything of the sort."

"That you are quite adept at killing people, you have shown us quite liberally."

He nodded his agreement.

"So I have. But I kill only people who have the bad taste to assault beautiful guardian angels as yourself. And then not even all of them!"

She made a face at him but her eyes were smiling.

"You give me too much credit and, by the way, your speech borders blasphemy."

He made a noncommittal pout.

"No importance, me and God have an agreement. He lets me do what I want and I no longer covet his job..."

This time, he made her laugh.

"That _was_ blasphemy, Sir. Do you fear nothing?"

"Nor man, nor God, nor Devil. The only thing I fear, right now, is loosing your good opinion..."

She looked at him with a face that would have been stern if her eyes had not sparkled.

"And who are you, Sir, to speak to me in such a shameless manner. You realize that you are holding me and we have not even been introduced."

"True, let me repair this omission."

He bowed low and doing this, he surprised her.  
She could do nothing but put her arm behind his neck and hold him with all her strength.

He tried very hard not to show how much her new hold pleased him.

"Geoffroy Aymé d'Arcy, at your service, Miss! Whom have I the honor to carry?"

She answered but he saw in her eyes that she was hesitating between surprise, annoyance and hope.

_Why hope?_

"Bennet, Jane Bennet," said she. "Are you a Darcy of Pemberley?"

"Not quite. I'm a d'Arcy of Arques, Normandie, France. One of the old stock, not one of the new English strain. These ones, the Darcys of Pemberley are perfectly adapted to the awful English climate. Healthier, stronger, immune to all these lousy diseases we foreigners catch under the veil of English fog."

He got her smile to persist.

"Seems to me quite an achievement, isn't it, Sir?"

He looked to the sky.

"But at what price, my dear Miss Bennet. Dull, arrogant and haughty Darcys of Pemberley when we, d'Arcys of Arques are flamboyant, witty and bursting with spirit and charm. I am the essence of the d'Arcy lineage, the one you'll never regret to have met."

He blinked at her.

"Lucky you!

That brought out a real crystal clear laugh.

"You're quite a braggart, monsieur, that I must admit."

"Not so," said he. "Everything I said is true. You did met my cousin Fitzwilliam, perhaps?"

"I did, quite a handsome gentleman."

He looked at her with a pleading look.

"Not handsomer than I, I hope?"

She gave him the credit of being as handsome as Fitzwilliam Darcy.

"But I'm the sunnier of the two, I'm sure. Did you ever see him smile?"

Annoyance clouded her eyes.

There was something else than Darcys in her mind. He could feel an old hurt under the surface of her mind.

"He is quite a serious gentleman, I must admit."

"He is a bore! That's what he is. Never a smile, never a compliment to the beautiful ladies surrounding him. He looks down on everybody as if he were the center of the creation. "

He flashed her his most charming smile.

"No comparison with this very d'Arcy."

The bad mood disappeared in favor of a more light one.

"So the d'Arcys of France are the essence of Darciism?"

"Of course," replied he. "Since I'm the only one surviving, there's nobody left to dispute me this very lofty title."

"I'm sorry...

"No need to be. It's all quite a few years in the past. And I never was in good terms with the rest of the family. I really do not miss them."

"The revolutionaries? "

He agreed with a nod of his head.

"They got the entire family, save my mother and sister who could flee to England. Mama died of sorrow a few years ago and my sister married a Scottish merchant. She doesn't know I'm visiting. I'll probably see her in Edinbourgh when I and my followers arrive there."

"So you are a French Immigrant in England."

He made a grimace.

"Not really, Miss Bennet. Not really. Quite the contrary."

She looked at him with inquiring and -_thanks God_- trustful eyes.

"Pray, swear you are not one of these revolutionaries who beheaded millions of French aristocrats."

"I swear that I had nothing to do with these executions. When it happened I was thousands of miles in the East. I came back from China only four years ago."

"And what was a d'Arcy of Arques, Normandie, France doing in China?"

"Studying," said he.

She looked at him with astonishment in her eyes. He was quite satisfied to notice that her right hand was still behind his neck and that she had ceased to ask him to put her down. Could it be that she liked her position as much as he?

"Studying? In China? What's to study in China? Why not come to Cambridge or Oxford?"

He let a laugh escape.

"There is a great deal to study in China, Miss Bennet. A great deal indeed. Do you know that the Chinese Empire which holds power nowadays in China began more than two thousand years ago?"

He was glad he could boast about China with her. It was a safe subject. Much safer than his being here in England this fifth august 1801. How would she react when he would have to acknowledge the reason of his presence here in this Park in Kent?

"Do you know that the Chinese invented most of the tools we stupid westerners believe our doing? That they are, and not the German Gutenberg, the inventors of the printing machine? That..."

He went on and on and on and he could see her smile brighten all the while he was speaking.

He knew he was babbling but he would not stop. Not with such a smile as his reward.

At one time, he had to breathe. She took advantage of the lull in the flow.

"You seem quite enamored with the Chinese, monsieur d'Arcy. How is it that you came back?"

That too was a safe subject.

"The old Governor of the Province I lived in, died and I lost the few allies I got there. I choose to quit before the new administration took the decision to clean up the old Governor's employees. I was ready, he was ill for more than a year. I was out of China within a week. And I had the pleasure to make the journey on the old silk trail. It took several months but what I saw, I will never forget. Our Earth is a fantastic Place to live."

She lost her focus on him and let herself dream for a few seconds.

"I would like to see the world too but I fear it is not the fate of women to travel the world."

"At my side, you could," said he in a whisper. "After England I plan to visit America. I'll land in Louisiana's Capital and I'd like to journey North, the whole way to Canada. I long to see this part of the world."

"At your side, monsieur d'Arcy?"

She was, as he did, whispering. He nodded.

"Do you realize what you just proposed?"

He forced himself to be absolutely serious. This was important. Everything must be perfect.

"Too fast a move, Miss Bennet? Would you have preferred more time to think?"

She was bewildered.

"Sorry to seem dumbfounded, but never ever would I have dreamed to be proposed by a man I encountered half an hour ago."

"Half an hour is a long time in my realm of business. "

She looked at him, fascinated.

"And what is a d'Arcy of Arques, Normandie, France doing for business here in Kent?"

He gave his smile license to reappear.

"The duty of a nephew, calling on his aunt, the duty of a knight, saving _his_ Damsel in Distress... "

He stopped smiling. He would not lie to her. If he were to conquer her, it would be with frankness and honesty.

"...The duty of a patriot, leading a French invasion force against England."

He felt her flinch under his touch. Their eyes met and he saw a trace of fear in them.

He tried a small sorry excuse of a smile.

"Don't be afraid, remember please the damsel rescuing part of my job... "

He saw that his "mot d'esprit" did not escape her. But it was probably too soon for another smile.

"I'm not afraid for me," said she and he knew she believed it. He knew that she felt safe in his arms ad he knew he wanted her to stay just there.

"I'm afraid for my country. Your roughneck soldiers are rampaging in my home land. I'm sorry but it does not reassure me."

He looked into her eyes and made a prayer that she would believe him.

"There will be no such things as rampaging, pillaging and raping. I gave orders and I'm a very demanding commander. There are no roughneck soldiers in my armies."

"One never can be sure."

"I do what is in my power to be sure. I have excellent officers, steady sergeants and experienced corporals. And my men have no doubt about what is going to happen to them if they forget their oath to me."

"That means, once more, that you're also in the job of killing people, monsieur d'Arcy. Please do forgive me if I find this part of your "business" difficult to applaud."

"There's nothing I could not forgive you, Miss Bennet. But you must consider that there are such people as myself who command armies and lead invasion forces. I hate reminding it but it was the British Crown who declared war on France and not the contrary. I'm not trying to lessen my responsibilities but I'm not the only one who brought war and destruction to a foreign country."

"And still you're her"

He nodded.

"I'm here and I proposed..."

He stayed silent a few seconds.

"I saw half the world, Miss Bennet. I have witnessed a dozen different civilizations and if there is one thing I fathomed during my journeys it's that there's no real difference between France and her neighbors. No differences at all between their people. Our governments are at war but that won't smother the feelings I discovered half an hour ago."

"Feelings, monsieur d'Arcy? "

He looked her in the eyes.

"Feelings, Miss Bennet! Do you need me to be more specific?"

She shook her head.

"No need," whispered she. "Would you take it as an insult if I ask for a delay? If, for you, half an hour seems sufficient to be sure about your feelings, I fear I will need a little more time."

Once more he nodded and looked up. The stairs were coming in view and the gravel on the alley was announcing to the world that people were approaching the Manor House.

"We are arriving, monsieur, I can assure you that I'm quite fine and that I'm able to walk alone."

"Pray forgive me if I have my doubts. You seem pale. If possible I'd like to set you on a bed, or if none available, a couch."

She looked at him with sparkling eyes.

"I'm not sure you and a bed in the same room would be a safe combination for me."

He looked stricken and made his best innocent face.

"I'm a gentleman, Miss Bennet. I certainly would not take an advantage of your being with me in a bedroom."

"Like you are not taking advantage of my seizure to continue carrying me against my will?"

He loved the sparkles in her eyes. He loved her wit and he loved the feeling of her nearness.

* * *

The door of the manor was opened and a "familiar"voice covered the words he tried to utter.

"What's this?"

He took a long breath and turned to face _the Dragon of Rosings_.

He bowed as good as he could.

"Mylady."

Lady de Bourgh looked first at him than at his burden.

"Who's this young person?"

And had he not had both arms full of Miss Bennet he would probably have slapped the old Worm for the way she mouthed that last word.

His ward tried to answer, he covered her attempt.

"A young Lady I saved from English miscreants trying to harass her and her companions within the borders of your domain."

Lady Catherine looked down at them and made a spiteful noise.

"I do believe she's safe now. "

She looked at Jane.

"You can stop your histrionics, it seems you got all the attention you wanted."

"There are no histrionics, here, Miss Bennet was..."

Lady Catherine covered his attempt.

"_Bennet_? As in Elizabeth _Bennet_?"

Charlotte, who was just entering the hall, thought it necessary to answer Lady Catherine's question.

"It is Jane, Elizabeth's elder sister."

Jane was trying to get herself freed but d'Arcy would not yield. He knew that, with free hands, he would kill the horrible old snake with his bare hands.

"I see... I already have had the displeasure to see your sister's exploits, but I must confess she's still a lot to learn from her elder sister. It seems that with age your skills at luring men are becoming better. "

She snorted.

"I knew it. In some families bad blood runs thick."

D'Arcy and Miss Bennet, both chocked by such a lack of manner protested in the same terms.

"Mylady, you can't..."

She, with another dismissive snort, turned around and swaggered across the hall to her parlor, each of her paces accompanied by a hit on the floor with her walking-stick.

He saw tears in Jane's eyes and she felt him harden.

"Please do nothing," pleaded she.

"A word from you and I strangle her..."

"To do it, you should have to let me down and you promised to never do such a thing..."

He looked at her.

"I could do it without letting you down. I could broke her neck with only one kick. And I would do it with great pleasure."

She looked at him and he saw distress in her eyes.

"I have no doubt on that matter. But would you do it to avenge my honor or just because you love killing people?"

The question struck him like a blow. Indeed for what reason would he kill her?

She looked him in the eyes and he could not give her an answer.

"I'm fine now, please put me on the ground."

He could refuse no longer.

The time of chatting was behind them. He had asked and she had demanded a delay.

He would have to wait.

He put her down but waited till he was sure she was steady on her feet to let her free.

Immediately Mary was at his side to hand him coat and headgear.

He put them on and all the time he was dressing Jane Bennet looked at him.

"What's your title, Sir?"

"Geoffroy Aymé d'Arcy, Premier Proconsul de la République Française."

She nodded and curtsied.

He bowed, closed to her and kissed her hand.

"Please think about my proposal," whispered he. "I'm longing to listen your answer."

"I'll think about it... You have my word."

"I'll see you as soon as possible."

He turned toward Charlotte and the two younger girls.

"I organize a dinner party this evening in the East Wing of Rosings. It would be my pleasure if the four of you would be my guests. I'll send men to escort you to Hunsford and back, this evening, half past seven, to the Manor House. Be assured that your security will be today's utmost task."

* * *

His aide was at his side immediately after leaving the hall.

"I want our best men to protect these women."

"They are already informed. Special security for the Lady in blue?"

D'Arcy looked at his aide and a smile appeared on his face.

"Already in the rumor mill?"

"What do you think? The first time in three years you spend more than ten seconds in the company of a young Lady... Who would doubt she's the one..."

D'Arcy's smile brightened.

"It could be, Benevento. It could be. The point in my favor: she didn't say no!"


	6. Dinner fight

The dinner at Rosings.

* * *

**Chapter 6: Dinner fight**

* * *

"My Ladies, what a great pleasure seeing you again, and on so short a notice!"

D'Arcy, as the host, came to the door and, as was the French custom, bowed overs their hands and touch them with his lips.

He stayed a little more than was necessary with Jane.

"I'm rejoicing that _you_ could come. I was fearing you'd want to stay alone to find the answers you needed."

"Some answer can only be found by confronting the problem."

He looked in her eyes and smiled.

"How perfectly true. I used the same words while convincing Napoleon that the only way to beat the British was to go and fight them on their own island..."

"You'll forgive me if I regret that you were able to lure the Corsican out of his hesitations..."

"You're forgiven, Miss Bennet, but don't be too rude with Napoleon, I'm a man who has lots of experience getting what he wants."

She looked at him and squared her shoulders.

"There are those things that can never be had by coercion."

"Then I'll try conviction, Miss Bennet. I'm quite skilled in defending my cause if the fight is worth it."

"Not all fights are worth it..."

"This precise one is worth more for me than you could believe..."

"Some times even great generals are wrong and chose to fight a battle lost even before the fight began."

"The only battle lost before the fight begins is the battle one choses not to fight."

"You're worshiping war and death, monsieur, even when your words should speak of peace and harmony, you mention fights and battles..."

"Than take the time to learn me the proper ways. I'd be elated to have _you_ as a teacher..."

* * *

Charlotte listened to the exchange.

Of course he was right. Jane would not have come. She had had to insist.

He had the power to get her William out of jail and not seeing Jane would have lessened her chances.

She was sure Jane's presence was a warrant to her success.

Of course, _dear Jane_ could, in the end, be convinced; and there she was, quarreling with the Frenchman as nobody has ever seen her doing it before.

Charlotte could only smile. The Jane born this afternoon was at her best when facing this man.

Without him she slided back to her old self. Soft and agreeable and boring Jane. With him she became another Jane. Witty, combative and straightforward.

Even strong willed it seems.

The words were barbed but the glances they shared spoke of other feelings.

There was a man in love and confronting him was a woman in doubt...

And to get her William back she would use his longings for Jane Bennet to the bitter end.

* * *

A knocking at the door brought the two opponents out of their duel. They had been so lost in their clash of wills that they had forgotten the other persons surrounding them.

The door was opened and Anne de Bourgh came in.

D'Arcy recovered and was immediately in front of her, bowing to her and kissing her hand .

"Miss de Bourgh, what a pleasure you could come even without your mother. Sorry if I didn't invite her but I like to have my say ad I know that with her at the table other people can only listen and shut up..."

"My mother has her moods, monsieur. Nevertheless she is my mother and I must insist that you show her the respect due to a Lady."

"Would she act as a Lady, she would get her due, even from me. Since she act as a lowly narrow minded Bully, I'm very much induced to treat her like one. Were she a man, I would not have been so kind with her. Family or not..."

Anne made a movement as if she would leave.

"If you're..."

He got hold of her arm.

"Pardon me, I didn't want to be rude. You're my guest and you shall have what you want. Please forgive me if I hurt you by using unkind words in relation with your mother. I very much regret using them."

* * *

Jane could only admire the way he was begging for forgiveness while making no effort to hide his contempt for Lady Catherine. Trying to hide their feelings was apparently not a skill of the French d'Arcy strain.

But Anne de Bourgh could not not acknowledge his apologies.

Even if he went on with his unsympathetic message about her mother, he had begged for forgiveness and she could only grant it to him.

So she did.

"You're forgiven" said Anne. "And I hope that some day you will also acknowledge that you're unkind to my mother."

But wanting to have the last word was, in all appearance, a real d'Arcy strain.

"No doubt," said he. "As soon as she acknowledges that she is unkind to the rest of the world, I will grovel at her feet asking for her forgiveness..."

He was taking no risk there and he knew it.

He got hold of Anne's hand and showed her to the table. He put her at his left and invited Jane to take the seat at his right.

With a kind gesture he invited Charlotte to take a seat in front of him and Mary and Maria to seat themselves at her right and left. The two middle chairs were remaining.

"We are awaiting two more guests who should arrive within the next hour. Please, Mrs. Collins forgive me the seating arrangement but this is the only acceptable arrangement I could accept."

He made a gesture and a flock of soldiers came in with wine bottles.

"Let us begin with a toast upon with we can all agree."

He waited till all glasses were filled before lifting his own.

"To England!"

"To England!"

* * *

"Why are you here, monsieur d'Arcy?"

He gave her an astonished look.

"Why I am here, Miss Bennet? I would have thought the reason of my presence here is quite clear, is it not?"

"I shall be more accurate, monsieur d'Arcy. Why are you here in Kent? At Rosings, to be even more specific."

"Two reasons, Miss Bennet. It's on my way to London and it's a family holding. I try not to intrude too much on foreign property. It's never welcomed when invading troops occupy buildings belonging to private persons. I try to use only family or crown property."

He put a paper out of his pocket.

"Next stop Hallberlain. A crown owned estate."

He put the sheet of paper back where it belonged.

"You plan to stop here for a few days if I have correctly understood what is going on on Lady Catherine's estate."

"Quite true, Miss Bennet. My men must rest a day or two. And the size of Rosings gives me the possibility to encamp everybody without putting men everywhere in the vicinity. More so, the surrounding walls give us a defensive position and a hiding possibility. For my purpose, Rosings is perfect and, within certain rules, it's mine..."

Anne looked at him with a certain surprise.

"Yours, monsieur d'Arcy? Would it be that some information did not arrive to me..."

"That, Lady Anne, would be much astonishing, informed as you are. But as a matter of fact it could be possible that this particular bit of information has eluded you, so I'll inform you immediately. Before Leaving France I took a certain number of legal precautions. In particular, I gave to the administration of the Domains a list of a certain number of realms, estates and properties that belong to members of our extended families and had them inscribed as d'Arcy properties."

Anne looked at him through half closed lids.

He went on.

"So as to ensure that nobody else can ever take them without following the legal procedures. I know that two of the Consuls are quite skilled in acquiring foreign property without paying the real price. This will never happen to a property listed under my name..."

He set his jaw in a very bellicose manner.

"If they want to take it they will, first of all, have to get through me. And I'm not an easy target to remove..."

Jane could not stay put.

"But, in a certain manner, these properties have already been stolen."

He looked at her and a small smile blossomed on his lips.

"By you," said she. "Am I not right?"

There was a quite obvious silence in the room.

"One could see it this way, dear Miss Bennet. But be assured that, as soon as Great Britain is legally included to the French Republic, I'll do everything to insure the family members of their rights. Private property is a constitutional right included in the "_Déclaration des Droits de l'Homme et du Citoyen_". They'll get everything back!"

"If they behave..."

The smile disappeared and flint came into d'Arcy's eyes.

"As we are all sure they will" said Charlotte from the oter side of the table. "Who would not?"

The smile came back, more charming than ever.

"You are trying to lure me into a confrontation, Miss Bennet? Why?"

She smiled back.

"As we said earlier, there are problems which _must be _confronted... Sooner or later."

"And calling me a thief is part of your strategy?"

"Calling you a thief, no. But confronting you as one, perhaps..."

They sparred a certain time and nobody knows were that confrontation would have ended when a knock at the door brought them to put an end to it.

The door opened and d'Arcy's aide came in in company of William Collins.

Charlotte was immediately up and, good manner in the wind, was soon in the arms of her husband.

"Ah, reverend Collins, be welcome at my table. I hope the haste with which I ordered you back has caused no problems."

He looked at his aide.

"No problems, I hope, Benevento."

"None at all, monsieur" came the answer. "I had the luck to catch up with the column before their arrival. It was a simple question of smoothly extracting the reverend. Nobody really knew what was happening before it was done and forgotten. Since we were in a hurry, the reverend had to ride and I fear the incomforts of the journey will take their toll later in the evening."

D'Arcy turned toward William Collins.

"If, because of weariness you should want to interrupt the dinner, do not hesitate, an escort will be ready and at your disposal the moment you want to quit..."

William Collins bowed toward d'Arcy and his smile was uncommonly shy and restrained.

He said only a very subdued " You're too good, Sir!" really not in agreement with his otherwise chatty self.

A soldier came and lead him to the remaining free seat in the middle of the right part of the table.

"Well, reverend, since you were with your fellow clerics and with quite a few members of the Gentry, could you please give our young ladies news from the deportees?"

William Collins looked up ad there was fear in his eyes.

"They were quite in good health, Sir. I witnessed neither maltreatments nor harassments. No complaint there. The food was not as we were accustomed to, but it was eligible. No complaint neither on that part." He looked at Darcy. "But there was quite an amount of fear in the little group we formed. Nobody knew what would happen next..."

D'Arcy nodded and looked around the table.

"I supposed," said d'Arcy, "it's time for a few explanations about the why of these deportations..."

He glanced at Jane who was still wearing her warrior outfit and who was, clearly, waiting to get an excuse to plunge again into the fray.

He liked what he saw. The others were afraid of him. Even young Anne could not look him in the eyes. They were present but no one of them, not even Mrs. Collins who had shown a trace of fighting spirit, had the courage to stand up against him.

Jane Bennet had no such qualms.

She was ready for another fight.

So was he.

"It's an old Chinese receipt to quench further uproar. Take the leaders and the priests away. Don't let them stir the people into revolting... The first emperor did it and now, two thousand years later, his race is still dominating the Empire. It is a winning strategy and I want to use it..."

Jane frowned.

"What do you mean by taking leaders away?"

He looked back at her with all the strength of his will.

"As I mean it... They are arrested, jailed and later deported. Louisiana needs lots of settlers. All those high and mighty are going to be reminded that what they eat is what others grew in their own gardens and fields. Now it's their turn to work in the fields. It will be an excellent lesson. It will teach them their right place and their real importance in society..."

Jane looked at him and felt that her feelings were in uproar. She could not believe what she just heard. This man who, this afternoon, has been all charm and witt was showing her a side she would have preferred never to know.  
And it hurt.  
Why should it hurt?  
He was nothing than a stranger, an enemy, an invader who must be expelled from her country as soon as possible.

"And what's your right place in society, monsieur d'Arcy?"

"At the top, Miss Bennet. Where I have shown myself worthy of being and staying..."

Such an arrogance! How could a human being really believe such words? How could he believe, after saying such words that she could even consider to...

"Your speech is the speech of a tyrant, monsieur d'Arcy. France had already one, now it seems that the womb of this monster has given life to another one. Let's hope you and your fellow tyrant Napoleon will destroy each other. The world could breath again."

"No such hope, sorry, Miss Bennet. If we are both tyrants, we are both clever tyrants, since we have clearly defined our areas of tyranny. He in Europe and I abroad. We were wise enough not to take the risk to clash one against the other..."

"There is no wisdom in tyranny, you will push the people of England toward an insurrection and they will stand up and fight you..."

"Why should they? What's your Kingdom if not a Tyranny? What's your King if not a despot? Your Gentry lives on the back of the peasants and lives better than them by stealing from them. That is going to change! I will give them a better life with more possibilities to feed their families. They will not want to see the old rulers come back. They will have seen that with us, with the Republic, life is better. A better, easier life, that, they will accept!"

"You won't get everybody. Some will flee!"

"The more the better, Miss Bennet. Let them show their cowardice and their unrestrained greed. Let them show to the people that those who had all the advantages are also those who think only of themselves, abandoning their people behind them..."

"Some will stay ad fight you!"

"Even better, Miss Bennet! These are those I lust to find. The true leaders and those with fighting spirit. Let them stay behind, let them try to fight me and my veterans. They'll be defeated and fall into my hands. And they'll be the core of my Louisiana settlers. They are the ones I want, they are the ones I need. Whatever the choice of your countrymen, I'll win!"

"No" spat she. "In the end you'll be defeated! I'm sure of it. And if our men are unable to send you home, than we women will have to rise, take arms and put you where you belong..."

He looked at her and his eyes spoke of a yearning she could not acknowledge. He could not really believe that she would... That she could...

"Miss Bennet, I know I'm not above failures, I could listen to voices of reason..."

He didn't say it but there was an adjunct to his sentence. She read it in his eyes. He would listen to words of reason uttered _by her_.

He smiled and while smiling his eyes became those of another man. No more an invader, an enemy or a stranger. The eyes of a man begging to be hers.

"As I said before, if you would consider it, Miss Bennet, I'm impatient to have you show me the right way. As everybody else, you have now a choice in front of you. What are you going to choose? The flight or the fight?"


	7. Pemberley Meeting

Well, we are that same day and other events are happening.  
What's going on with Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam? Let's have a few news from Pemberley.  
The next chapters will deal with ELizabeth and her family.

* * *

**Chapter 7: Meeting**

* * *

**Derbyshire, Pemberley, Wednesday August the fifth 1801**

* * *

When Darcy and Bingley came back from Derby it was late evening but, to Darcy's relief, everybody was awake and up.

He immediately went to Mrs. Reynolds and asked her to organize in the Great Parlor a meeting where all his guests and everyone of the staff with rank would assist.

He then asked Mr. And Mrs. Gardiner if they would accept to organize a meeting between him and Elizabeth.

"Immediately?"

Mrs. Gardiner's voice was half surprised and half amused.

Darcy looked at himself and tapped a dust cloud from his vest.

"Give me a quarter of an hour. I'd like to refresh myself and get rid of the dust of the road. Do you think it could be possible?"

Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner looked at each other and made tremendous efforts to suppress the smiles that were threatening to appear on their lips.

"We will see what can be done," said Mr. Gardiner. "Where would you wish to meet her?"

"The morning parlor? We, I mean, Elizabeth and I, could have some privacy while you could be within the same room."

"Let it be the morning parlor, then..." said Mrs Gardiner.

She looked at her husband and smiled at him.

"I'll go fetch Elizabeth, we will join you in the morning parlor..."

"Of course, dear. I'll wait there till you come back..."

As Mrs. Gardiner turned around, the two men walked toward the Great Parlor where Fitzwilliam poured Mr. Gardiner a glass of Port wine just before leaving for his room I order to change his dusty clothes.

* * *

Never in his life had Fitzwilliam Darcy made such haste to change and clean himself. His man was quite disturbed and made it known.

"It's unseemly, Sir, to hurry as much. Give me ten minutes more and you will be perfect. With less I fear we will not be at our best."

"I'm in a hurry, Flinch" said Darcy while washing himself in the bath room. "I have already lost way too much time and I'm not loosing a second more than necessary. I said a quarter of an hour, it will be a quarter of an hour, not an second more..."

Flinch made a face while sorting the clothes he was preparing for his Master.

As every manservant he hated those moments where too less time made their work less then perfect.

But even with this stress he could not help but smile. He knew, as everybody else in the House, that Miss Bennet was a very special guest.

_The _very special guest!

They have known it the minute Fitzwilliam Darcy asked Mrs. Reynolds to prepare the blue bedroom for Miss Bennet. Nobody has ever been invited to stay in the _blue_ Bedroom while in Pemberley .

The blue bedroom has been Fitzwilliam and Georgiana very special project for the last five years.

They had said nothing to anybody but the staff knew it was what they wanted as a bedroom for the future mistress of Pemberley.

And _of course_ the whole staff has been looking out of a front window when Miss Darcy came back from Lambton in company. The old couple was immediately discounted. Not the brown haired young Lady who came out of the carriage helping a very pale and distressed looking Georgiana Darcy.

Everybody noted the difference between her attitude and the Bingley Sisters' who swarmed Georgiana the second she came out of the carriage. Of course they said they were distressed to see her in such a dire straight but, as usual, their eyes were plotting and the ugly stares they shot toward the young Lady was a sign that they did not like her.

And to be disliked by the Bingley sisters, if not a difficult achievement, was an excellent sign for the whole staff.

Somebody Caroline Bingley disliked would, probably, be a kind and lovable person...

And within two hours, everybody knew she _was_ a lovable, gentle and caring person.

Strong willed also since, even while Georgiana was willing to let herself be grabbed by the Bingley sisters, she stood her ground and politely but strongly hushed the two harpies away and brought Georgiana to her room to rest and to refresh.

And when Georgiana asked her to stay with her, she accepted but not before speaking of it with her aunt.

A gentle and well bred young Lady, indeed.

Of course the staff went immediately into active surveillance phase.

If this young Lady was to become the next Mistress of Pemberley everything about her was of the greatest interest.

Maids were dispatched to Lambton to squeeze the staff of the inn for all available information and footmen and maids were placed everywhere were the young Lady and her parents could possibly go while in Pemberley.

Every conversation would be heard and reported to Mrs. Reynolds in a first phase and to everybody else in the following news-spreading phases.

Luckily for her, but unluckily for the staff, Georgiana was not really unwell but only distressed and the two young Ladies had no need for the help of a maid the whole hour they stayed within Georgiana's room.

But the few minutes were maids brought new clothes, tea and refreshments for Georgiana and her guest were sufficient to get the essence of their exchanges.

So most of what they said would remain a secret but the important things were known immediately.

The young Lady shew no unseemly arrogance and never stopped to speak to Georgiana when a member of the Staff entered the room. The first time she asked Georgiana what were the traditions of the House concerning members of the staff and when Georgiana had assured her that the staff could be trusted, she went on with her conversation without even a lull in her speech.

More to the point, the young Lady smiled to the maids and the young Lady thanked them every time she was served.

Caroline Bingley never smiled and never thanked.

She always stopped what she was saying but never acknowledged the presence of a member of the staff. She just waited till the inconvenience ended.

For Caroline Bingley, staff were not people. They were servants.

For Miss Bennet it was quite the contrary. They still were servants but they felt themselves more like trusted members of the household.

And the news brought back from Lambton confirmed everything the direct observations had brought out.

The young Lady was gentle with everybody of the staff, not demanding and easygoing. She knew the names of every staff member she had encountered once and she had, on two occasions, played with the two younger daughters of the Innkeeper. She was not shy and had been witnessed sparring with Old Grumbey, the Inn's steward, about the way he looked after the horses...

All in all, the staff was rather satisfied with everything they had learned about Miss Bennet.

Of course the information gathering was going on and the next days would bring other details of her new mistress' life and family but, for now, they knew the two points that were important: Caroline Bingley was out of the race --_the sigh of relief of Pemberley's staff was loud enough to be heard till Derby_-- and the Lady who had caught theirs master's fancy was a good-humored easy-going well-bred young Lady with no delusion of grandeur and not the slightest trace of heir-huntress in her.

"I must insist, Sir, there are circumstances where a perfect appearance can make the difference between success and failure..."

Darcy could only laugh.

"No chance for that, Flinch. Last time I proposed I was perfectly attired and she gave not a damn to it..."

Flinch could only snort. He knew perfectly well that last time his master was perfectly attired. They had spend two hours in his dressing room going from one set to the other.

And all or nothing.

"Last April, in Rosings, I suppose, Sir?"

Darcy looked out of the bathroom. Rather astonished.

"Indeed, how did you know?"

"It was the first time in our whole being-together that you shouted at me, Sir. Twice! Before, while choosing the proper dress and after when you came back drenched and distressed. We all remember with dread the following three months..."

Darcy could only make a grimace.

"Sorry for the inconvenience. I was rather not myself those days..."

_Those weeks, _rectified Flinch, _but now with a little luck everything will straighten up_.

"If you are ready, Sir, I am too. We have still five minutes to dress. With the help of a little miracle, there's a chance my good name will survive this evening."

"Five minutes it is!"

* * *

Elizabeth was not as calm as she would have liked.

She had known that Miss Darcy's invitation was about more than just comforting a distressed young Lady, even if the young Lady was really distressed and more than once at the brink of dissolving into tears.

There was something else in her eyes.

She was distressed and even scared. But she was also looking at her with such longing in her eyes that some hope has began to creep into Elizabeth's mind.

Could it be possible that he still held feelings for her?

That even after her hateful words last April he still would have her?

She could not really believe it but Georgiana's eyes could not be interpreted differently. There was hope and pleasure in her eyes. Even relief of a sort...

Elizabeth looked at her aunt.

"Do you have any idea why Mr. Darcy wants to see me?"

Her aunt's gaze was full of disbelief.

"Dear, I do believe you know very well why Mr. Darcy wants to see you. Why would a man ask your uncle to organize a meeting with you in a room where he could have privacy while under the eyes of the parents of the Lady? It seems evident that he has something very important to ask you, Dear, and I'm sure you have a better idea of what the matter of the question will be than I..."

Elizabeth could only pout.

"I have no idea, aunt. Really... Mr. Darcy and me have had a..." She hesitated. "A dispute, some months ago. And meanwhile we have not seen each other, not even have we had news from each other. I really cannot fathom why he would like to speak to me..."

Aunt Gardiner looked at her with a smile on her lips and in her eyes.

"You'll know very soon, now. I do believe I hear somebody running in the hall. Would it be Mr? Darcy trying to be here in time?"

She closed the distance between her and her niece and gave her a kiss.

"If in doubt,dear Elizabeth," whispered she, "take the initiative and ask your own questions. You'll see, it will soften the stress..."

* * *

Darcy stopped running just in front of the parlor.

He took a lungful of fresh air and walked in.

He bowed toward Mr. And Mrs. Gardiner and while walking to Elizabeth he felt his knees being made of an unknown and spongy matter and his throat becoming as dry as paper.

He bowed before looking her in the eyes.

They were as beautiful as in his memories. He could lose himself in them.

He longed to lose himself in them for the rest of his life.

"Mr. Darcy" curtsied Elizabeth. "You wanted to speak to me?"

"Yes indeed, Miss Elizabeth. "I asked your uncle to organize a meeting between us... I... We..."

She looked at him and decided that she was not willing to let him wreck _her_ next proposal.

""Could it be, Sir, that the present meeting have been organized in order to give you the possibility to ask me a question?"

Darcy looked at her with astonishment in his eyes.

"One could say so" agreed he.

"Could it be, furthermore, that the question you want to ask, was already asked some months earlier?"

Astonishment gave way to stupefaction and --_to Elizabeth's relief_-- pleasure.

"One could say that this is also true..."

Elizabeth took a deep breath.

"Could it be then that a "_Yes_" to said question would be your wished answer?"

"Indeed, it could be" said Darcy with a smile on his lips.

"Then" said Elizabeth, "let me invite you to go on asking your question since I do believe there is this unique possibility that you will get the wished-for answer."

Darcy smiled at her in a way she could not believe possible. He, the dark, distant, haughty fellow who never was seen smiling just lit up from within while offering her the most beautiful smile in the world.

Yes, he was handsome but when he smiled he was gorgeous and she knew that had he only smiled to her in such a fashion in Rosings, he would have replaced the sun for the rest of her life...

Her heart was bursting in her chest and she saw him go on his knees.

"Miss Elizabeth, I know I have..."

She interrupted him with a finger on his lips.

"Your question, Sir?"

He smiled again, took her hand and kissed it.

"Will you accept my hand and marry me, Elizabeth Bennet?"

She let her smile take unknown proportions.

"I will, Mr. Darcy. I will..."

She helped him to stand up and his lips were against hers in not enough time for Mr. Gardiner to protest.

He opened his mouth but Mrs. Gardiner stopped him right there with a finger on his lips and a smile on her face. She spelled the next words in the silence of the parlor.

"Let them have a few minutes. They are engaged, no?"

M. Gardiner looked at the embracing couple and his angry grimace was denied by his smiling eyes.

"One minute, not a second more" whispered he. "What will her parents think of us if they ever know what happened in this parlor..."

She chose not to answer.

She knew exactly how her sister would have reacted.

And it was a great blessing for her ears that she would be miles away when she learned of it.

And since this was Elizabeth she was sure that Mr. Bennet would have been prone to close both eyes while his daughter and her fiancé had such unseemly behavior.

She shared a smile with her husband and they made every effort to stay invisible for as long as possible.

Then Mr. Gardiner looked at the clock and took a long breath.

He knew this next cough would have to be loud and sound if it had to be of any use.

* * *

**Next chapter: Spreading news**

* * *


	8. Spreading news

Again in Pemberley. As we remember, there are some news to share...

* * *

**Chapter 8: Spreading news**

* * *

**Derbyshire, Pemberley, Wednesday August the fifth 1801**

* * *

Of course nobody from a household like Pemberley would have been so forthright as to listen at what was said behind closed doors. But there was a surveillance and when master Darcy came out of the Morning Parlor hand in hand with Miss Bennet and a quite ridiculous smile on his lips, everybody knew what had just happened.

Hand signs were exchanged and footmen began to disappear behind closed doors and maids who had stayed later than usual began to put on cloaks and walk briskly toward the outbuildings...

The news would probably be officially dispatched during the meeting organized by Mrs. Reynolds in the Great Parlor, by such good news could not wait and everybody in the surrounding towns and villages had to know of it as soon as possible.

Soon Pemberley would have a new Mistress and the new Mistress would _not_ be Caroline Bingley.

Two very good reasons to feast and frolic.

And everybody would want to know everything about the Lady who caught Darcy's fancy. What was her name, where was she from, where had they met, and so on, and so on...

The coming days would be full of rumors and happy cerebrations.

* * *

But not only. There would also be bad news which would tamper the happiness of Lambton and surroundings.

Or perhaps it would be the good news that would tamper the fright and the concern which would, this very night, take hold of every one's heart.

* * *

Darcy, Elizabeth and the Gardiners were not the last to enter the Great Parlor. Bingley came just after them, freshly clothed and not quite smiling, followed by the last members of the staff who had followed their duties as long as possible.

Darcy, with Elizabeth at his side has take his usual place near the fireplace and was looking at his fiancée with all the love a Darcy could muster in a public surrounding.

When Mrs. Reynolds stood up he looked at her and agreed to her nod.

He turned to face everybody.

"Before giving you the news I have to give you, I must apologize to two persons I love."

He looked toward his sister and smiled at her.

"Pray, Georgiana forgive me for letting you bear alone the burden of our uncles news. I know it was not fair to force you to shoulder them while forbidding you to share the load that I'm sure others" --_he smiled at Elizabeth_-- "would have helped you to carry."

He stayed with his glance toward Elizabeth.

"I must also ask you, Elizabeth, for forgiveness. I was so afraid the bad news I carry would hinder you to give me the answer I hoped for, that I concealed them from you until now. Please, do not be too harsh with my cowardice, I was really fearing that, knowing the bad news, you'd stall the answer I so much needed."

She looked at him, love mingling with surprise and concern.

Darcy took his eyes away from her and turned to face all the others.

"I have two very different informations to convey."

He took Elizabeth hands and kissed it.

"First, the good news! Miss Elizabeth Bennet has agreed to become _my_ Mrs. Darcy and her acceptation has made me the happiest man of England."

Forgetting the concern they had felt while their master has spoken, most of the staff present stood up and applauded to let their contentment be known. And their satisfaction was clearly personal and not only because the House of Pemberley was in need of a heir.

Elizabeth, even still concerned by the words of her fiancé could do nothing but acknowledge with a smile the real joy of the people facing her.

The only ones who did not share the general satisfaction were the female members of the Bingley family who were showing the outright shock this news has brought to them. They were so disappointed that even their usual false smile could not force itself on their faces. Louisa Hurst could not even find the strength to hide her open-mouthed surprise.

Darcy let the joy and applause go on all the time needed. They could need a little of pleasure. It would soon stop and they would know that there was left very little to rejoice.

He took the letter of his uncle out of his pocket and opened it.

"In order to give you the bad news, I'll just have to read my uncle Fitzwilliam's letter. "

He showed it to everybody.

"This is the letter I received from him this very morning and since we got no further news in Derby, what this letter contains is, unfortunately, the latest news we were able to get. Please wait to ask questions until I am finished since my uncle gives details till the end of his letter."

He took a long breath and began to read.

* * *

_London, the 3rd of August_

_Matlock House _

_Dear nephew,_

_I'm not quite sure if it is necessary to send you these news since I do really hope our Government took the decision to inform even the most distant counties, but while in doubt, I will take no risk with such grave news._

_First of all, you must be informed that England has been invaded. Three days ago, French troops came ashore in Brighton and took the coastal town and, if the rumors are true, crushed the troops that were stationed in the surroundings of said town. _

* * *

Everybody was stunned for a few seconds before they went over the surprise. For years now the threat of a foreign invasion had been in the center of all conversations. The fear has been real but the presence of the Royal Navy had been the mean every one has surmounted his fear and discarded the probability of the danger.

Shouts and remarks were uttered by the people facing him. The Gardiners stayed calm but they were clasping their hands and looking at each other. Caroline Bingley looked as if she had been forced to wear an out of fashion frock.

Most of the staff only looked at each other without saying a word.

Darcy heard Elizabeth making a muffled noise. He looked at her and saw that she was more than concerned. She looked afraid.

He glanced at her and his eyes were wondering. Why was she so troubled?

She inhaled strongly and made him understand that he had to go on.

_Since then, the most troubling rumors are spreading through the Town. It is said that more than a hundred thousands French soldiers came ashore and that five different armies are loose on English Territory. One army is said to march against London under the leadership of the French commander in chief. As I write, this army seems to be at the border of Kent. I believe that, if the French want to take the Town, they could be here within two days. So at the time this letter arrives, London will probably be under siege. _

_I don't know now if we stay or if we flee like the others. I really do not know. As you probably know Richard was at Brighton and we have no news. _

_We pray he could survive. _

_The only good new we got concerns Prince George who, at this period of year, would have been at Brighton but for a gout problem. I know it's not very good news but it's everything I have to offer of the kind. We were lucky; we could have been deprived of our sole capable Prince. And without him we would have been saddled with Frederik or William. Luckily George it still is. It's not much but, in our situation, it is something indeed!_

_As for the situation in the South, I fear I can give you very little details. Astoundingly there are very few refugees coming into town. This gives the rumor mill new strength. Are the French killing everybody? Some say so and they are on the brink of getting off to some other parts of the Empire._

_Shipping prices have jumped into the indecent. Ship owners are selling passages to ten times the normal price and each tide sees more members of the Gentry calling it a day in Town._

_The only thing that hold people in Town is the rumor that Prinny wants to hold an official banquet where he will explain the situation. Everybody knows that he does not take it lightly when his followers fail to be where he wants them. _

_So it seems that most children and staff are running away with the family jewels while the scared parents await Prinny's summon. _

_Militarily, the situation is not good. We have only our county militias and these will not hold against one hundred thousand French. And even if only a quarter of these troops came ashore, they will not hold either. If the Corsican has sent troops, he has sent those troops who already took Northern Italy, Egypt and Syria. I hate to write such words, but we have nothing to put against them. They caught us unprepared, unseasoned and unworthy. _

_They will go through England and Wales without even encountering the beginning of an opposition. Perhaps Scotland can be reinforced and walled. I doubt it but it should be attempted._

_As an old military man I can only admit that we failed our country. Please do not read these words to Georgiana but it's the only way to say it : we're screwed, son, we're screwed, nothing more to say about it. We will, very soon, earn the price of our foolishness. _

_You're quite happy to be in Pemberley, believe me. And so are all those who chose not to follow the fashion and spend the summer near the sea and around the Crown Prince._

_That's it, son, please send copy of these news to my staff in Matlock. Let them take all the precautions needed to put in safety everything that we wish to save from French greed. I hope your estate on Man is still manned. If bad comes to worst, it seems it will be our last resort._

_I have sent copy of these news to all members of the family, even my sister Catherine. I hope the news arrive there before the French._

_Yours..._

* * *

"So" said Darcy while taking Elizabeth's hand into his own. "_Those _are the bad news sent by my uncle. You know as well as I do that the earl of Matlock has not an ounce of humor, so we can safely believe what I have just read. I do not believe, though, that the French were able to disembark one hundred thousand men on our shores without the Navy taking notice of the ships necessary to transport such a number of troops. But, as my uncle said, with the troops at Brighton already eliminated, we have very few seasoned troops left in England."

"What about the troops in Ireland," asked Jenkins his real estate manager.

"They won't be here in time" answered Mr. Gardiner. "And the moment they are recalled, all of Ireland stands up to cut the throats of all the remaining Englishmen. And I'm very sorry to say such words but the troops we used to squash the Irish rebels are not worth a damn against real fighting troops. The French have the best infantry in the world and with Napoleon and his generals, the best commanders in history since Caesar. They will crush our Irish garrisons without even slowing their march..."

"So we are doomed?" asked his wife. "And what of the children? They are at Longbourn. They are perhaps already under French rule..." She sniffled a sob. "Or dead..."

"We cannot be sure" said Darcy interrupting the gloomy soliloquy. "I took the liberty to send a letter to Longbourn inviting Elizabeth's parents to depart to the North and join us as soon as possible with all the persons they see fit to invite."

He shook his head.

"I know, this is no real solution, but being all together in these dire moments, will make it easier for everybody to bear the burden of this invasion..."

He looked at all the people facing him.

"Are there members of your family we could gather or invite to join us?"

He heard Elizabeth exhale.

"Lydia was in Brighton" said she with a broken voice. "The last news we got she was staying there till the militia under colonel Forster's command ended its maneuvers. I fear she was in the middle of everything. As usual..."

Fitzwilliam put his arm around her waist and let her come against him.

She responded with eagerness.

He was relieved. He still had feared she would take badly the priorities he had chosen.

It was rather unseemly but at this very peculiar moment, he didn't give a damn.

* * *

"You're sure you hold no grudge for the way I chose to ask you?"

She looked up at him.

Her eyes were red and her face shew the price tears demanded.

She sniffed.

"Of course not," said she. "You were right. I would have stalled. I would have been guilt ridden and I would have let desperation overcome me. Now, it's too late and, as I have abundantly shown, it seems I love crying in your shoulder."

"I love you, crying or not crying. But I must admit I prefer it when you smile."

She sniffed again while resting her head against his chest.

They were still in the Great Parlor and everybody else had left.

"It will come back, Fitzwilliam. It's only the grief I feel for Lydia. I begged my father not to let her go. I begged him more than once. He would not listen. He could not bear the idea of Lydia's screaming and pouting. And now she is dead, killed by the French invaders..."

"Be not so sure about that. The French have not the reputation to be bloodthirsty beasts. Not outside their country at least..."

"Everything could have happened, everything..."

"Yes" agreed Darcy. "And in everything there is also good news. Let's not give up hope, shall we? Let's await some more news before despairing."

He plunged into her hair and let the fragrance of rose and lilac take him into a land of fairies and happy Elizabeths...

* * *

"Tomorrow..." said Mr. Gardiner. "Tomorrow, our brother will get Darcy's letter and I'm sure an hour later he will be on his way to the North. He has reason to come even if we discard the war. He wants his daughter to be married! I should even say he's urgently needed..."

Mrs. Gardiner looked up and her red eyes spoke volumes of how she felt.

"What d'you mean?"

He tried a smile.

"You've seen them, haven't you ? Those two are bound together by bonds of passion. We will have our hands full holding them apart."

"You believe they..."

He looked at his wife.

"Wife, do you not have seen the same things I saw? They eat each other every time they share a glance. We should part them immediately."

"We should" agreed she. "But where to go with her? Lambton?"

"Five mere miles?" laughed he. "A sea could not hold these two apart! Not with the war looming behind their backs. Survival is a very efficient incentive to do what, normally, would not have been done. I fear we are doomed to fail in our role of guardians..."

"So we do nothing?"

"Of course we do! We marry them as soon as possible! With luck, they'll have the patience in them to wait a few days. If they have not, you must be aware that this task is above our skills."

* * *

**Next chapter: News from Pemberley**

Starring Mr. and Mrs. Bennet.


	9. News from Pemberley

**The second day**... Lot of things are happening within a few little hours, don't you agree ? Well, the second day will be as action packed as the first...

As you've seen you got this one sooner than was in my previsions. But Mr. Bennet has this effect on me: the words come without thinking. It's no as long as usual but it's --_I hope_-- worth the read.

* * *

**Chapter 9: News form Pemberley**

* * *

**Hertfordshire – Longbourn – Thursday August the 6th 1801**

* * *

The courier just left, letting Mr. Bennet standing in his courtyard with a letter in his hand.

The sun was just coming up and the courier who had brought the letter had looked like hell. Poor man, and he would not stay even for a tea.

He heard voices coming and soon Mrs. Bennet and Kitty were at his side.

"Mr. Bennet, what's the noise? Are the wretched Frenchmen coming after us to pour our blood in the fields as they chant in that ugly hymn of them?"

"No dear, sorry to disappoint you it is not today that our entrails will be spread all over the country. It was only a horseman with a letter."

"Mr. Bennet are there news from my dear Lydia?"

"I fear not, Mrs. Bennet. A bit early for the Post. And for news from Brighton, I fear we will have to wait the taking over by the French of the Royal Postage Service. And the courier spoke old plain English. I hope, the taking over will not be very soon..."

"Oh, Mr. Bennet! How can you be so heartless to joke while my dear Lydia is in jeopardy somewhere in French occupied England?"

"Dear Mrs. Bennet, I will reluctantly admit that the French has been able to take our Land, I will even accept that they could have imprisoned our daughters but there is one thing I refuse to let them deprive me of, it's my sense of humor."

"Then what's the matter with this letter of yours?"

"The messenger was a special courier coming from the North and going to London. So, sorry, there's no chance that they could contain news from our daughters. Perhaps Elizabeth, but I don't see why my brother would have used such an expensive mean..."

"My God, something happened to Elizabeth! Open it, please open it!"

"All in good time, Mrs. Bennet. I'm certainly not going to open this letter in my courtyard, in bed clothes and in slippers. First things first, let's go to my study."

"Have a little compassion on my nerves, Mr Bennet. You tear them to pieces with your stalling. Hurry up!"

They all went to Mr. Bennet's study where he lighted a gas lamp and sat in his favorite armchair. His wife and Kittie, too nervous to sit were hovering over him.

He broke the seal.

"Dear, dear, how surprising" said he while looking at the sender.

"What is it? Pray, Mr. Bennet. What is it?"

He looked up and made a face at her.

"Don't be so impatient Mrs. Bennet, I was just wondering why Mr. Darcy would want to write us."

"Mr. Darcy? What could this awfully arrogant man want from us? Does he not live in Derbyshire where my brother and his wife have taken Elizabeth in place of the Lakes? What does he want?"

"I don't know Mrs. Bennet, I just broke the seal. If I could have some moments of peaceful reading I'll probably be able to say more about the content of said letter."

Mrs Bennet began to squeeze her shawl.

"It's once more because of Elizabeth. He has complains about her! Once more your daughter has given us reasons to grief. Am I not right ?"

"Yes and no, Mrs. Bennet. Yes and no..."

"How can it be yes _and_ no, Mr. Bennet? Such is not possible. Please have a little compassion on my nerves. You tear them to pieces with your unfeeling words."

"Would you give me the opportunity to explain it you, you would have no more reason to wreck your poor nerves _and_ your shawl. Had you let me speak you would already know!"

Mrs. Bennet shook her head and made an approving gesture.

Mr. Bennet took a deep breath, adjusted his glasses and looked at the text of the letter.

"Yeesss?" said his wife.

"I'm getting to it, I'm getting to it" replied he while showing her the two leafs of paper. "It's a long letter and I would not want to make mistakes in misunderstanding what it says..."

He looked back at the text and went, once more, through it, singsonging all the while.

His wife was just at the brink of bursting when he looked at he.

"You were right, there is a mention of Elizabeth in Mr. Darcy's letter!"

"I knew it, I knew it! What did she do? What did this wretched daughter of yours do to him?"

He took off his glasses and looked thoughtfully toward his wife.

"And what he says about her is quite surprising!"

"Mr. Bennet. Stop playing with my nerves! Tell us immediately what is in this letter of yours! Did your Elizabeth anger Mr. Darcy?"

"Well, since you insist!"

Mrs. Bennet looked at the heavens and made a tremendous effort to stay calm. What with the horrible news of the French invasion that had taken its toll on her poor nerves. It would take only a little more tension to wreck her definitely. Did Mr. Bennet have no feeling for her. Did he really ignore that she was at the edge of collapsing?

Mr. Bennet put his glasses back on his nose, took a long breath and lifted his eyes toward his wife.

"Well, what do you want first. The 'yes' or the 'no'?"

"I don't care! Speak without delay!"

"Then it will be the 'yes'" said Mr. Bennet. "It seems that your daughter rejected, last April his proposal..."

Mrs. Bennet went white as linen.

"She did what?" cried she. "She rejected his proposal? Last April? She rejected him and his ten thousands a year?"

Mr. Bennet looked up a whimsical look in the eyes.

"That I do not know. Nowhere in his letter does he say that she rejected his ten thousand a year."

He took a few seconds to think.

"But I do suppose it was included in the proposal. As it was included in the rejection, if one thinks about it..."

"Oh, Mr. Bennet! This is all your fault. The perfect proof that you failed in educating her. This same year, your daughter rejected not one, but two perfectly acceptable proposals. First poor Mr. Collins and than poor _poor_ Mr. Darcy. Half of Derbyshire and ten thousand a year." She could do nothing but wail like a banshee. "What can this girl think about? Does she really wish my death?"

"Dear, you were willing to sell her to Mr. Collins. I could imagine lesser reasons to hate someone and wish his death..."

"Jane would have done it... Had I known that this Bingley was only a sham, I would have proposed Jane."

"And I would have refused all the same, Mrs. Bennet. I would even have refused if it would have been Mary! Mr. Collins is not a husband I wish to my worst enemy's daughter. I very much fear that poor Charlotte will never have a happy moment in all her years of marriage! Nothing I wish to any of my daughters."

He lifted a hand.

"But in her case, it's her fault. She chose him knowing what sort of insufferable fellow she was going to marry. Let her live with the outcome of her choices."

This was too much for Mrs. Bennet, her legs could no longer support her and she let herself fall in the nearest sofa.

"Hiiiillllll, my breathing salts! Hurry, my poor nerves... I'm dying..."

Hill, probably listening to everything from the Hall, was immediately at the side of her Mistress, breathing salts ready to be used.

"Oh, Hill," said Mr. Bennet. "Thanks for being so speedy. Please take Kitty with you and the both of you, please begin to prepare everything for a journey. My wife, my daughter, the Gardiner children and as many of the staff you deem necessary are departing as soon as possible..."

Thanks to the salts and a very alive curiosity, Mrs. Bennet came immediately out of her fit and looked at her husband.

"A journey? Where to?"

"But of course to Pemberley, Mrs. Bennet. At Mr. Darcy's..."

She looked at him eyes full of real astonishment.

"What for? God! Why should we go at Mr. Darcy's?"

It was Mr. Bennet's turn to look into heavens. He exhaled heavily.

"Have you listened to nothing, Mrs Bennet? You go there because Mr. Darcy is inviting us to join with Elizabeth and your brother who, at this very moment, are his guests at Pemberley..."

She looked at him, all surprise.

"But why would such haughty unsympathetic man invite them?"

"Because he asked me the permission to make a second attempt at gaining the hand of Elizabeth and if he succeeds, we would be necessary for the ceremony..."

This time there was no words capable to describing Mrs. Bennet's state of mind.

"He will ask her again? Owwww! Dear Mr. Darcy! What a stout and respectable fellow. With faithfulness and such good taste." She jumped up. "Of course we leave immediately. Hiiillll we leave. Immediately!"

On this outcry she rushed to the stairs followed by a smiling Kitty and a worried Hill. Mr. Bennet's smile took tremendous proportions and he gave himself a few minutes to rejoice in his little prank.

"And this answers to the 'no'" said he to an empty study.

* * *

He would stay behind and go in search of his other daughters. Even if he was very happy that Elizabeth has found a man she could love --he very much hoped it was the case-- he would not go to the safety of Pemberley leaving behind him Jane, Mary and Lydia. He knew he was not the best of fathers but one thing he would not do: hide in the safety of the North while his daughters were in danger.

First he had to write a letter to Elizabeth and her Darcy to give them his blessing and to explain why he would not be with them. He had excuses --who could have foreseen the invasion?-- but he was not so sure those excuses would be sufficient to erase the frown on Elizabeth's brow when she learned that he had sent Jane and Mary to Brighton to get Lydia back as soon as possible.

The choice of his two most reliable daughters for this mission had given him a certain feeling of rightfulness and safety he no longer felt. At the time it was a good idea. He knew Jane and Mary would not let themselves be convinced to stay for more than a few days in Brighton. And they would have had the pleasure to _have been_ in Brighton.

For once, the obedient daughters would have had a share of the pleasure...

Now, thanks to his grandiose idea, he had lost three of his jewels and innerly he was fearing what could have happened to them in a war ravaged zone.

Jane and Mary, with a bit of luck would have been stuck in Hunsford. He prayed for it every second of the day. If it was the case, they were probably safe. If not...

He refused to walk this lane.

As for Lydia, well, as usual she had managed to be directly in the thick of everything. At the same place where the French came ashore. If she survived he hoped she would not come home with a Frenchman. But who could say with Lydia? One thing was sure: she would survive. She had it in her...

He looked at the map of Britain.

First Kent and Hunsford. And from there it would depend on the French. Where were they? Not yet in London and no more in Brighton, so much he knew. But where in between ?

He'd have to go and try...

* * *

**Next chapter : Lydia's back**


	10. Lydia's back

The next chapter brings us back to Rosings.  
We are at quite the same time as what's happening in Longbourn.  
And as the title betrays it a lost sister is back into play.

* * *

**Chapter 10: Lydia's Back**

* * *

There were nights soon to be forgotten.

Last night was one of those.

Had she slept at all? She couldn't say.

What she had done more than she had ever wanted to do at night was thinking.

Especially thinking about _him_!

Even Charles Bingley had not awakened such powerful feelings in her heart.

She could, at least in the days of what she thought was his courting, slip into sleep with a smile and an image of him.

But this one, this one, haunted her! As if he had the power to enter into her mind and pursue her.

She literately could not get rid of him!

Never in her whole life had she encountered such a inflated individual!

How could he dare saying what he had said to her. Never ever had a man been so _blunt_ about the feelings he pretended having for her. Or for any woman she had known.

Did he really believe that such a behavior could entice him with a woman?

Every well bred woman could only be shocked by such a demeanor. Wanting, to the least, to cease immediately all relations with such as _him_.

She exhaled loudly.

She should not even think of _him_!

And though she could not prevail not to think of _him_!

Could it be she was not as well bred as she thought?

A sun ray came through the closed shutters announcing that the sun was out.

It was probably way too early to stand up but she could, anyhow, sleep no more. She stood up, dressed alone as was her habit and decided to follow Lizzie's advice.

A morning walk would, perhaps, clear her thoughts and bring her back a little of her lost peace of mind.

The staff was still asleep and she took a slice of bread and an apple just before walking out of the parsonage's garden.

The weather was, as it has been the whole month, sunny and fair.

As if the sky would rejoice over England's defeat.

She chose a brisk pace for her walk but it was not enough to clear her mind of _Him_.

She despised herself for the Capital letter in front of the pronouns and names she used when thinking of _Him_.

And she could do nothing but make comparisons between Him and Charles Bingley.

Charles was a charming m...

She stopped and crushed the thought with an angry footstep.

Charles _is_ a charming man! Charles _is_ a perfect gentleman. Charles _is_ everything a bridegroom should be.

But Charles was no Bridegroom and had never even asked her...

Not so with _Him_.

He had made it amply clear that _He_ had seen her. That _He_ had taken a fancy in her and that _He_ would not take no as an answer !

That insufferable, arrogant, full of himself man !

Did he really believe that if would be sufficient to let her know that he was interested in her to bring her, all happiness, at his side ?

Worshiping him ?

How could he dare ?

Once more the two of them came before her mind's eye.

Charles' loving eyes, his candid and friendly smile. His open and sunny disposition.

And his disappearance without even saying goodbye.

On the other side, there was _Him_. His possessive and wanting eyes, his proud and confident behavior. His words that spoke of love and longing, his glances that spoke of approval and were full of feelings he made no effort to hide.

She instinctively knew that he had all the confidence she lacked. That he had no doubt that she would, finally, come to him.

He knew!

How could he dare knowing!

She looked at the sky and was tempted to rake her hair with her hands.

She stopped. It would have been unseemly...

That thought made her laugh.

Unseemly! Had that word still a meaning? With her thoughts turning around him, images of Him running around in her mind?

Her hands went to her hair and the pins flew on the ground. She shook her hair and looked at the sky. It always helped her to find a new balance.

She forced Charles' image to cover the others. She concentrated on his laughing eyes, on his merry smile, on his trustworthy demeanor.

Trustworthy? She had trusted him with her love. Had waited for him to come and get her. A gesture from him and she would have been his for all eternity.

And he just turned his back and walked away to London! Never ever even looking back!

His image disappeared and _His _arrogant face appeared with a triumphant smile on his lips.

He would not have walked away.

He would not walk away.

Not without her!

She knew that he would make no false promise. He would stand to his word. If she agreed to...

Could she agree to?

He was the enemy commander. The man who, for all she knew, was responsible for the death of Lydia.

How could she even dare thinking herself at his side?

Images of Darcy, Lizzie's Darcy, came in her mind.

They were so similar those Darcys.

Tall, haughty, dark in mood and spirit and so cocksure!

But this d'Arcy --_she was thinking 'her' but she refused to admit it_-- had not scorned her, this d'Arcy had been able to smile at her with longing in his eyes. And for all his haughtiness, with her, he had been the most charming of men.

The most daring of suitors!

She could not stop herself and she shouted her dismay to heavens.

And he was really the most insufferable of all men she ever encountered!

"In a foul mood this morning?"

She jumped out of her skin and would probably have fallen over if two strong arms had not been there to catch her in mid fall!

After very long seconds where she fought for air and countenance, she looked at him.

Of course it had been Him.

Not a second had a doubt crossed her mind.

"You scared me half to death" cried she.

"On purpose, Miss Bennet! And I did it with great pleasure! Are you out of your mind to wander in these woods while ten thousands of my men are encamped not five hundred yards away?"

He helped to steady herself and both his hands went to her shoulders.

She shivered.

"Not even a day has passed since my last rescue, Miss Bennet and here you are oblivious to your surroundings and shouting your anger to the heaven. You would have make me come at your rescue you should have done just the same!"

She blushed furiously.

How could he?

How could she?

How...

She saw his arrogant smile and anger came up.

But not anger alone. Somewhere deep within her heart there was a longing to just walk into his arms and stay there until her heart became, once again, the quiet and faithful organ it was long ago.

Not that crazy battering ram which was trying to tear her chest apart.

She knew she had to act or she would do the most unseemly thing in the world.

She got back to her two decades old experience in sister handling.

A real tantrum had always been a good way to slip out of delicate situations.

"How dare you? A week ago it would have been no problem for a lonely lady to walk everywhere in England, and more precisely in this stonewalled park. It's you and your army and your invasion and your deportations and..."

He made the gesture of surrendering.

"Point taken" said he. "It's all my fault. I take full responsibility for what happened these last days." His smile which had, for a fleeting second, vanished, came back more flashy than ever. "I'm even guilty of premeditation. For the invasion and for ambushing you this morning..."

She had known it with a certainty she had never had before.

"You followed me?"

"I was sleeping when I was informed that you were prowling in the woods. I came immediately. I'm your Guardian Angel, am I not?"

"You are not and I was not prowling! I knew perfectly well to where I was walking!"

He leaned against the nearest tree his eyes sparkling with glee.

"Perfectly well? As in finding your way back without my help?"

He made a gesture with his hand.

"Show me..."

She took a deep angry breath and went on stomping along a path.

He followed stealthily. After a few dozen yards seeing her hesitations, he asked:

"Where are we going?"

She stopped and breathed as much fresh air as she could.

He was following her and she couldn't even hear his foot steps.

Slowly she turned to face him.

"Let me alone!"

"Never! I can't, I'm y..."

She interrupted him.

"You are not my Guardian Angel! I don't need a Guardian Angel!"

He looked at her and his eyes were full of those feelings she could not, she would not, share.

"Do you know that you are even more beautiful when your eyes are sparkling with anger and your hair tangling in the wind?"

She blushed and paled at the same time.

Her hair ! All this time she had been with her hair not dressed! As if she was a little girl..

She immediately turned away and busied herself at getting a more acceptable hair style.

"Need a hand?"

"No!"

"Sorry to hear that. I'm sure I'd love to rack my hands through your golden hair..."

"I do not doubt it" said she while finishing a very crude horse tail. Why had she not ake care of her pins. What was she thinking. Was she thinking at all? "You have really nothing of a gentleman. A gentleman would never ever have said such words..."

She did not see it but she sensed that his smile was no longer on his lips.

"If being a gentleman means walking out on you without even saying goodbye, than I'll rather not be a gentleman..."

She turned and looked at him.

There was sadness in his eyes and all the anger she had felt just vanished.

"Mrs. Collins told me" said he, answering the unasked question. "She was quite eager to provide me with the information I was seeking. I do believe she thinks she owes it to me because of the release of her husband."

A hint of a smile found his way back on his face.

"And I am sure she thinks I'm quite taken by a young Lady of very great courage and awesome beauty. Being quite the romantic and not quite forgiving for said gentleman who --in her words--_dropped_ you last winter, she was very exhaustive with her explanations..."

Jane could only shake her head.

"She should have hold her tongue. She had no right to slander Charles. He had probably good reasons."

The smile came back.

"You're even nearer to perfection that I believed. You're probably the first woman in humanity's history who would forgive a man who scorned her..."

"He did not scorn me... He did not know... I didn't say..."

D'Arcy smiled at her.

"The _Guardian_ part is obviously not the main part. I'm quite impressed with such an open minded ability to forgive."

He came toward her and took her hand.

She made no effort to hold it back.

"For my part, Miss Bennet, I'm willing to build a statue to this greatest of all English fools and shower him with gifts. Never have I been in such great debt to any man. Had he not been the king of buffoons I would have been for ever deprived of your lovely company..."

She wanted to speak in defense of Charles but he stopped her with a finger on her lips.

A tingling shot through her leaving her without the strength to even breath.

"But, dear Miss Bennet, I did not came all this way only to help you to find your way home, I came because I have someone I'd like you to meet."

Jane shook her head.

"Sorry, monsieur, but I fear I'm not in the mood for a social call."

He made a face.

"Neither am I, Miss Bennet, and I can assure you that it is in no way a social call..." He took a few seconds to think. "One could says it is more in the line of a rescue. And if you would allow me to be very blunt, since yesterday you owe me one!"

* * *

At fifty yards she was overjoyed to know --_and hear_-- that Lydia was safe and sound.

At thirty yards she was glad her sister was out of harm's way but rather astonished by her choice of language.

At ten yards she was blushing madly and thinking of running away.

At point blank she regretted not to be armed with a cudgel.

"Lydia, please stop harassing these soldiers. It is untoward for a young lady of good birth to use such crude language."  
Lydia turned toward her and a huge smile blossomed on her lips while she jumped in Jane's arms to kiss her soundly.

"What's the matter, they are French and can probably not understand a single word," said she. "And it makes me feel a lot better!"

"It remains unseemly, Lydia. Do not forget you are in Lady Catherine's house. She already has a very bad opinion of the Bennet sisters..."

"Oh, I believe we have already met. It must have been that old lout who came out that door to inquire at the noise. Never encountered a more unpleasant and impolite person. I took great pleasure at making my point against her..."

The blush in Jane's face disappeared to make place to the palest face she could muster. D'Arcy was immediately at her side holding her arm.

Absentmindedly she thanked him with a smile. He took it for granted that he could stay there holding her.

"You have what?"

"I've explained to that old clod that there were rules of good behavior and that her mother would have been better advised to do it herself than to let her coachman give her her education."

Her sister laughed very unwomanly.

"You should have seen her face. A lobster seems pale in comparison. A moment I hoped she would collapse but there was probably still too much spite in her. She just turned around and walked away whacking the floor with her stick..."

Jane, after a while, was again able to speak.

"Where have you learned such language, Lydia, it's..."

"Tss, Tss, Tss" interrupted her sister. "I have it from the highest level. Duchess Waintree says it all the time. That's a stout old fart! We came along quite pleasantly."

She looked at d'Arcy and shot at him her most flirtatious smile.

"You already know my sister, monsieur d'Arcy? Don't let you be disturbed, she's the second most tedious of us all. Kitty and I are much more pleasant company. Do you plan a ball while you are occupying Rosings? It had been an eternity since my last ball..."


	11. Behind enemy lines

Back at Longbourn. Where we find the Bennet family preparing their departure.

* * *

**Chapter 11: Behind enemy lines**

* * *

**Hertfortshire, Longbourn, thursday august the sixth 1801**

* * *

Sergeant Kervadec was exhausted. Exhausted and rather angry.

They just arrived after a night of strenuous riding in the English countryside.

And they arrived too late.

"We could force them" said Kennedy, his Irish second in command. "I'm quite skilled in forcing Englishmen to do my biding..."

"This is her family" grumbled Kervadec. "Even ol' faithful Irish henchmen such as you would not survive his bad temper if what we are going to do shatters his courting..."

Kennedy could only shot a dark look toward the carriage people -_-servants probably, slaves of the Goddamned English Gentry_-- were charging.

"Why couldn't he fall in love with a beautiful Irish wench? We hoped that Maureen would do the job. Unfaithful lout!"

Kervadec could only laugh.

"Between a beautiful, tame, blond English girl and a volcanic, crazy, red haired Irish girl, I would have chosen the blond as well. And so should he. We want him to find a soothing wife, not a trigger for his own personal powder-barrel!"

Kennedy turned in his saddle and looked at him.

"So what do we do?"

"We go in! No choice... We have orders, have we not?"

* * *

"Mr. Bennet... I believe we have a problem..."

Hill just entered his study as he was just signing the letter for Elizabeth. He smiled. In fact it was a letter for the Darcys. Or hopefully soon to be...

"Let me guess, the French just arrived" said he with a smile.

A man entered his study and Mr. Bennet just _knew_ that his little joke was no longer amusing.

"Sorry to intrude" said the black-haired unshaven armed-to-the-teeth stranger. "I have something of a letter for you..."

And his Irish brog was unmistakable.

Mr. Bennet stood up and took the letter handed by the dark looking man.

Another one came into the study and closed the door just in front of Hill.

"He speaking for us..." said the new comer with a heavy French accent. "Better English than I. Not bad spelling but awfully recognizable accent. Better him..."

He went to the best armchair, sat in it, put his cap on his eyes and, a minute later, was happily filling the study with his light snore.

The Irish pointed a thumb toward the Frenchman.

"Sergeant Kervadec. He commands our scouting troop and we rode all the night. The others, outside, are, for the most part also sleeping. We will need it. We go back as soon as possible."

"Go back where?" asked Mr. Bennet.

The Irish pointed at the letter.

"Perhaps it's explained in the letter. If not you'll see when we arrive..."

Mr. Bennet raised the letter and broke the seal. Curious seal. Four intertwined letters PPRF.

"What's PPRF for?"

"Premier Proconsul de la République Française" answered the Irish. "He is the man who's in command of this cleansing expedition..."

He smile a little more. A very threatening little smile.

"He is also the man who will smash the English garbage and give the Irish people the opportunity to slit the throat of all the English Masters who feed on Irish slaves..."

Mr. Bennet had some difficulties to smother his smile.

It would have triggered a nasty reaction. And he was in no mood to fight within his study against a revengeful Irish soldier of fortune.

He quite liked the Irish. Never smooth and never tame... Best friends you could ever get. Worst enemies, too...

But in a fight no one's better to cover your ass

He opened the letter and began to read.

* * *

_Dear Mr. Bennet,_

_This letter will probably be a surprise for you and you will, without a doubt, wonder why, I, the French commander in chief of the invasion army, have decided to write to you, a perfect stranger. _

_The answers are awaiting you here in Rosings where your daughters Jane and Mary, are lodging at the Hunsford parsonage under the roof of Mr. And Mrs. Collins. _

_I sent you my men in order to ask you if you would agree to join your daughters and wait with them until I can call on you. I would have sent them to your estate but I have a few thousand troops who are moving in the area they would have to cross. And, as I write these words I'm unsure how many English troops are roaming that same stretch of Land. Here in Rosings they are in French territory or, from your point of view, behind secured enemy lines. And in perfect safety I give you my word on it..._

_My men, if you should decide to join your daughters, will escort you to Hunsford._

_I hope to see you very soon._

_Yours _

_Geoffroy d'Arcy First Proconsul of the French Republic_

* * *

Mr. Bennet looked up and in the eyes of the soldier --_sergeant_-- standing in front of him.

"You know what's in this letter?"

"Hasn't read it to us. But gave clear orders..."

"I'm to come with you!"

"If possible and willing..."

Mr. Bennet took a deep breath and stood up.

"How many men do you have with you?"

There was an hesitation there.

"I could go outside and count and then add six or eight to count those men you placed around the estate and along the roads coming here..."

"Twenty four..."

"Well, that means two squads, am I right?"

He nodded.

"Well, then that's what we are going to do!"

* * *

"Is everything aboard?"

Mr. Bennet took a last time his "last" daughter in his arms and squeezed her like never before.

"Papa, what's the matter? We are in no danger, are we? Not with these stout fellows in charge of guarding us."

"In war, one never knows, Kitty. But I'm quite satisfied that my _friend_ Kennedy was free to answer my biddings. With him and his men you'll have much better safety. I see no highwaymen foolish enough to affront such mean looking young fellows..."

"We got no sleep last night, _Edward_" said Kennedy. "You'd be as mean looking as us..."

"Wasn't a complaint, wasn't a complaint, my friend. The meaner, the better!"

One last time he kissed _his_ Catherine and went inside in search of his wife. The Gardiner children and Maria, their maid, were already in the carriage and since the Hills had refused to quit the estate, Mrs Bennet was giving last unnecessary instructions to their loyal retainers.

"It's time, dear! What you forgot, I'll provide. Don't be afraid..."

Mrs. Bennet gave a last look to her kitchen and than embraced both faithful old servants.

"Lizzie is going to be Mrs. Darcy, Hill! Mrs. Darcy! Half of Derbyshire and ten thousand a year! I'm so proud of her..."

"Don't forget, Mrs Bennet" teased he. "Nothing is done. She had already refused him once. My Lizzie is of a stout stuff. Could say 'no' a second time if he don't behave!"

All colors vanished from his wife's happy face.

"She won't do that, would she? Dear, It's half of Derbyshire! Who would refuse half of Derbyshire?"

"Nobody but our Lizzie, dear, that's sure. We raised one honest and not greedy young girl, there. We can be proud of us..."

"Once is quite enough to prove one's honesty, Mr. Bennet! Hopefully, this time, with half of Derbyshire just under her nose she will forget honesty and see reason!"

_If the man don't agree with her, I doubt it_...

"You're right, let's hope they have found an agreement and that when they receive my acceptation, you'll have nothing more to do than organize her wedding!"

Immediately the smile was back.

"Mrs. Darcy, Hill. I'm to be mother of Mrs. Darcy! What a wonderf..."

She went out and Mr. Bennet smiled toward the Hills. They were already here at the estate when he came home from his army stunt with a much younger Mrs. Bennet. Hill's mother was caretaker and his wife's father coachman. And never had they lost a day of service.

"Hopefully we will be back, Hill. If not, take care of everything and do what you can to assure the survival of the house. The rest we will be able to repair. But the house of my youth I would regret, even if it goes to the Collins..."

"What if Miss Elizabeth rejected the Mr. Darcy a second time?"

"I don't think that's a risk. Such a proud man would not have written without a very high hope to get my daughter. No, Hill, I do believe that the financial problems my daughters would have had after my death are behind us..."

He looked at the letter he was still holding.

"And if I am not misguided, there could be another surprise coming from the south!"

The Hills looked at each other with fright in their eyes.

"The French?"

Mr. Bennet could only burst out in laughter.

"As you say, Mr. Hill, As you say. The French..."

The Hills shared a puzzled glance. From time to time, their old man was really quite crazy!

* * *

Finally they were all in the carriage.

Kitty bent one last time through the door and give him a farewell kiss.

"You'll be prudent, won't you?"

He smiled at her.

"Of course, I will be."

He paced back.

"Look at your old man, Catherine. Do you really believe there's a hero hidden somewhere within this old carcass? I was no hero when a young man, it's too late to begin at my age!"

She bit her lips in a very unwomanly fashion.

He said nothing.

"You could come with us. No need to stay here... I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you all, dear. But someone must stay here to await their return, isn't it? What would they think of us if, returning, they find that we all fled North?"

Mrs. Bennet's head appeared behind their daughter.

"They would perfectly understand that you were wanted in the North to give your daughter to Mr. Darcy. It's the way it's done. I love my brother very much, but I do believe it_ is_ the father's role to bring the bride to the altar, not the uncle's!"

Mr. Bennet paced back a little more.

He knew that his wife had not been always the fool she became a few desperate years ago.

And the old cunning was showing. She suspected something.

Time to defuse the bomb.

"Don't you believe something foolish on my part, dear! The reason I stay is obviously because I refuse to leave my study. Even if Pemberley's library is as fabulously rich as the rumors say, it's still not my home! I stay where I belong and as soon as I got my daughters back, I'll follow! That's a promise!"

The suspicion in her eyes did not vanish. But she chose not to insist. They had a long way before them and the time was running away.

Kitty was not quite as reasonable.

"Rumors say the French came ashore in Brighton. That's were Lydia was. It could be..."

He refused to let her say the words...

"Not even Frenchmen would be foolish enough to come ashore at the very point where the English main force is bivouacking. They came ashore, that's for a sure, but probably near Dover or Ramsgate. Where they had the least distance to cross. Don't forget that the Navy was watching them..."

He shot her his most confident smile.

"If rumors speak of Brighton, it's probably because it's the last town still resisting on the coast. People always make confusions like that when they are under stress. And what greater stress than an invasion?"

He lifted his arms.

"It's time, dears, please don't waste more time worrying about me! I'll be the least in danger of us all. Don't forget, I'm staying safely at home in the most forlorn little village of all England. The French will bypass it without even seeing it..."

He made a sign to young Hill who was the coachman of the carriage and with a slapping of his whip, the carriage started.

Kennedy who was at his side gave him a contemptuous look.

"Like all Englishmen, you're a born liar. Shame on you!"

And, on those words, he mounted and followed the carriage.

His twelve men followed him.

* * *

Ten minutes later he was awakening the sleeping beauty in his study.

He was wearing an outfit he hadn't worn for years and two pistols nobody knew he possessed were in their holsters at his belt.

"Hmmm?" said the French while awakening.

"We leave to Rosings and we leave immediately" said Mr. Bennet in his best French. "You believe you'll be able to do it?"

The sergeant stood up and got hold of the bottle of Port. He took a huge sip.

"We will have to stop in around three hours to let my men get an hour's rest. But, if we are lucky enough not to encounter English troops, we will be in Rosings late this evening."

"If such an encounter happens, you'll let me speak" said Mr. Bennet.

"And why would I do such a thing?"

"Because you obey to orders, don't you? And don't make the mistake to believe you're still in command. As long as we are in English Country, I'll give the orders, is that clear?"

Kervadec looked at what was, till now, a funny old man.

No longer.

He had five war campaigns in the bones and he knew when seeing a tough and experienced old officer.

And this one was exactly that.

He nodded.

"I'll get my horse and we ride. Send two men half a mile in advance. Not further. Would be too dangerous. We stay on the roads and we take the direct route."

He turned to walk through the door where he stopped and looked over his shoulder.

Directly at Kervadec!

"Which one?"

The sergeant immediately understood what he was meaning.

"The blond one..."

The old man made a face.

"Feared as much!"

* * *

**Next chapter: Lydia's last ball**


	12. Lydia's last ball

Back to Rosings and Lydia's story. Or how to begin an invasion waltzing...

* * *

**Chapter 12: Lydia's last ball**

* * *

**Kent, Hunsford August the sixth / Brighton August the first.**

* * *

"No! I won't wear that _frock_. It's dull, it's ugly and it's coarse..."

She shot a reproachful glance to Mary.

"Why is it you to be here and not Kitty? She, at least, wears pretty things."

"It's my prettiest dress" protested Mary. "I brought I to wear it at dinner with Lady Catherine. If it does not fit you, give it back and take another one."

"Everything else you brought is gray or brown. I hate gray and I despise brown."

"Go and get your luggage then. The French will perhaps give it back to you. Go on flirting shamelessly with this d'Arcy and he'll get you everything you need. That' what happens to..."

Jane put her foot on the attempted slander. She would not let Mary say such things. Not for Lydia and not for anybody else.

"The luggage is lost" said she. "There's been looters in Brighton. Mr. d'Arcy apologized for it..."

Lydia, unaware of what Mary had been about to say, looked at Jane.

"Why not your blue one? It's rather pretty, that one..."

"You've already tried it, Lydia. The bosom don't fit. We'll never let you wear it without a refit and the seamstresses are just now unavailable, what with the invasion and so..."

Lydia looked toward the heavens.

"That's a very bad excuse. Those French are not quite as ugly as everybody says. They were even quite gentlemanly."

She fluttered her eyes toward Charlotte.

"I even danced with d'Arcy, he's quite the Waltz dancer. Let me breathless and head spinning..."

"How could you..."

Jane stopped Mary's question with a forceful gesture.

"No, not yet! She will tell everything when she's dressed!"

She tossed the dull, ugly and coarse dress toward her sister.

"There's no other choice, Lydia, it's this one or nothing and I won't accept nothing as an alternative!"

Lydia took the dress and began to put it on, a pout on the face.

Jane could only sight that this test was behind them.

Lots of others to come.

* * *

"It was the most extraordinary ball I ever witnessed. The only bad surprise was the absence of the Crown Prince. For the rest, it was heaven on earth!"

To show her enthusiasm Lydia could only stand up and make a few waltz rounds around the dinner table.

Forgotten was the dull, ugly and coarse dress in the wake of her marvelous memories.

Jane forced herself to remain silent.

It was also the evening where the French --and _Him_-- came ashore. But this part of History was clearly not worth remembering for Lydia.

Mary, never the best diplomat, had no such scruples.

"Till the arrival of the French, I suppose. Afterwards it was a direct step into Hell, wasn't it?"

Lydia shot her a contemptuous look.

"Of course not, d'Arcy was quite the gentleman. He let the ball go on until the last possible moment. It was only when the first guests who were trying to leave made difficulties and refused to be imprisoned quietly that he had to interrupt the party. Who would have thought that the earl of Wilchester had such a wild streak in him. He draw his sword and would not surrender. He had to be shot on the spot. The detonation spoiled everything, blue coats came immediately swarming the hall. Had he had a little more diplomacy, we could have danced till the morning..."

Mr. Collins very much the cautious and subdued individual Jane had witnessed at d'Arcy's table, risked a question.

"But these were the French invaders! They werer invading Brighton at just that same moment, were they not?"

"Of course they did! But they did it with absolute stealth and silence. We, in the inside of the theater, never guessed anything."

"How considerate of them" teased Charlotte. "Perfect gentlemen not to spoil your ball..."

Lydia's smile didn't disappear.

"Weren't they? And d'Arcy! What a wonder of a man. He's quite the opposite of his cousin. Tall, yes but all smiles and charm. He danced with every Lady at the ball and spoke with every one... Oh, how it was surprising when he finally told the truth..."

* * *

He could not believe it.

The guards had let him enter the theater. They had looked at his uniform --_the red and golden Consul frock under a black cape with golden embroideries_--, saluted and opened the door.

He was quite amazed.

He just wanted them to surrender quietly but given the opportunity to enter, he took it. His men knew exactly what to do and being within could give him the opportunity to save a lot of lives.

And the less the corpses tomorrow morning, the better the chances to launch a successful bloodless campaign.

He gave his cape and his hat to the servants at the cloakroom. His sword he could keep.

He was glad of this last part. If worst came to worst he would need it.

He glided into the great ball room and acknowledged a salute of the two sentries who played guard at the entry.

Immediately, glances came his way.

He smiled, nodded and bowed as often as necessary and, at one time, a man parted the crowd to meet him.

Richard Fitzwilliam, second son of the earl of Matlock and colonel in the horse guards. Horse guards who were, right at this very moment, herded toward the beaches where prisoners would be hold till morning gave the barges an opportunity to embark them.

They both bowed.

"General Anneley sends me to ask if you wouldn't be a Darcy? I must agree with him you have quite a likeness to my cousin Fitzwilliam Darcy. Not counting the eyes, his are grey while you have extraordinary blue eyes..."  
D'Arcy bowed once more, this time to acknowledge the common ancestry.

"Probably because he and I are indeed cousins..."

Richard Fitzwilliam was rather amazed by the accent of his fellow cousin. Not quite a common accent but an accent nevertheless.

"Had we the honor of being introduced?"

"Not yet, colonel. I'm Geoffroy d'Arcy" replied d'Arcy. "From Arques, Normandy. The French branch of the family."

Richard erased his smile from his lips.

"Sorry for your parents. The late countess d'Arcy gave me the account of what happened. She believed you dead. She died a few years ago and to the shame of my family I must confess that she died in rather dire conditions in London."

"As you see the rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated. I was a very long way from home and it was only a few years ago that I learned that my fellow Frenchmen have decided to cull their aristocracy. And as for mama, I have learned everything about the circumstances she died. I know exactly that you are not to blame in the least..."

"Happy to hear that some news get out correctly..."

The colonel took his cousin by the elbow.

"Please, follow me, the general is eager to make your acquaintance. You're quite a stunning figure with your long black hair. Pirate's image?"

"More or less" said d'Arcy. "The Ladies are quite fond of my eyes and my hair."

"I would have bet on it!" He made a gesture to show his cousin the throw of the crowd. "The most beautiful ladies of England are here tonight. If you have projects of love, you should not come empty handed of this party..."

"I'm sure of it, my dear cousin" said d'Arcy. "This is not a night that I'm going to end empty handed!"

They came along a group of officers with Ladies in attendance.

Richard Fitzwilliam walked toward a rather fat and bald man wearing a general's uniform.

"General," said colonel Fitzwilliam, "you were right. It is a D'Arcy. But of the French branch. Probably the last of the name still alive."

The general bowed followed by his fellow officers and by the curtsying ladies.

D'Arcy acknowledged their welcome with a bow of his own.

"What brings you to Brighton, Sir?" asked the general. "Apart from the pretty young ladies who flock around us..."

D'Arcy nodded in the direction of those young or not so young ladies who had responded to the general's _mot d'esprit _with a little laugh of their own.

"Apart from the Ladies, I was here to meet the future King George the Fourth. It was said he would be here. I was in hope to have the opportunity to kidnap him... For a few minutes..."

The general made a face.

"He's stricken by the gout. Couldn't leave London. Couldn't even come here in his favorite place. You'll have to go all the way to London to have a chance to see him. Hope you didn't come from the Town?"

"No, I'm coming from France... I came ashore a few hours ago not far away from here."

He grimaced.

"I'm quite disappointed. It would have been a great accomplishment to get this interview with the Prince of Wales. It would have saved me a lot of time. Now, it will have to wait."

He smiled at the company.

"The duty having disappeared, I'm free to enjoy myself. Which of you pretty young Ladies will be bold enough to dance with _this_ French invader?"

There were bold young Ladies enough.

* * *

Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam was not a very happy man this evening.

A thousand times would he have preferred to be out there, controlling the sentries and joking with his sergeants.

But his duty was to pamper general Anneley and the general loved it to be pampered a lot.

He could do nothing but follow the old fart, look at his glass and refill it as soon as it was empty and, if possible, herd as much pretty young Ladies to his general as possible.

Thank God that for this last peculiar duty he had now the prodigious help of d'Arcy.

His eyes searched him and soon found him dancing with yet another young Lady.

He was a d'Arcy, strikingly handsome and good looking, no doubt on that. But he was clearly no Pemberley Darcy, that was very evident indeed. This one had probably not the tenth of Fitzwilliam's fortune but he had ten time his social skills.

Had he been in search of a rich heiress, he would already have found more than one.

Even Lady Brent, a twenty two years young widow from Lancaster, said to be fabulously rich and quite independent, had made a pass toward the striking Frenchman.

Richard had made a little attempt, a few months ago and had earned a rather satisfying night but also a clear advice not to try to suit her.

"I'm free" had she said. "And I'll never again give up my freedom..."

So much for a woman's word.

Richard could only smile when he saw the glances his fellow officers cast on d'Arcy. They had all recognized that here was a real player. He moved like a tiger, smile like a tiger and feasted on Ladies' hearts like a tiger.

Loosing business to be_ only_ a cat in his vicinity.

Rchard Fitzwilliam was sure that, coming morning, he could probably get entrances he never ever could have dreamed of only on saying that he was _this_ d'Arcy's cousin.

And than he heard the shot.

Very few people did hear it, but he saw a dozen of his fellow colonels look up and around with a suspicious expression in the face.

Darcy had heard it, he knew it by the way he herded his current dance partner toward the edge of the dance floor.

He saw him kiss the lady's hand and climb up the stage where the musicians were playing.

He spoke a few words with the leader of the band and placed himself a few paces at the side.

When the dance came to an end, the leading musician made a sign and d'Arcy moved to the edge of the stage.

Of course he had everybody's attention within a few seconds.

Colonel Fitzwilliam got hold of his very personal general and lead him at a few yards of the stage where d'Arcy was waiting.

"What's up, cousin" said Richard. "Some news we have to know?"

D'Arcy answered him with a nod and a smile.

"One could say so, cousin, one could say so..."

He lifted his arm and very soon every body went silent.

"Thank you, Ladies ad Gentlemen" said d'Arcy. "I'm very sorry to interrupt our lovely party but I have the bothersome duty to ask the officers in this room to surrender quietly. I would be very upset with you if one of our lovely Ladies would be in harm's way because of some reckless behavior on the part of any of you..."

General Anneley was the first to come out of his surprise.

He burst out in laughter...

"Capital, dArcy, that's monstrously funny. For a moment, I even believed it."

Soon quite a lot were following the lead of the general and laughed.

Not colonel Fitzwilliam.

He was near enough to see d'Arcy eyes.

And those were not the eyes of a jester.

Those were the eyes of a Tiger preparing himself for the kill.

After a while, the laughter subsided.

D'Arcy bowed.

"Sorry, general, but I fear my sense of humor has been greatly exaggerated. I'm a rather serious man and not much of a prankster. "

He lifted his right arm and pointed toward the door.

"If in doubt about it, please ask my aide-de-camp, Général Murat who is waiting at the door with his men. He's there to take hold of your swords but he will be very happy to answer all your questions. Excuse his accent, his English being very crude and very recent. But I know him to be a very good-natured and patient man so do not hesitate to ask."

Everybody turned around and the first cries could be heard from the back of the dance floor.

"Once more gentlemen," said d'Arcy, "please be reminded of the attendance of so much gracious Ladies. We are all gentlemen and their well-being should be at the center of our preoccupations."

One of the lieutenant, being just at the bottom of the stage put his hand to his scabbard. D'Arcy sword was at his throat before he had even put it out. (Unsheathed it?).

Richard had seen nothing from d'Arcy's move.

At one moment he was standing looking at the crowd, the other he was crouching in front of a very surprised young lieutenant.

"I would very much advice you to let this saber glide back in his scabbard. I know that most Ladies do not like seeing heads roll on dance floors. Even lowly lieutenant's heads!"

The demonstration was sufficient.

Nobody made another attempt.

* * *

"And that's the way my last and most exciting ball ended. We were all herded out of the theater. The officers went to one side, I suppose toward the beach since I heard a French officer giving orders as to embark them in the morn, and we, Ladies toward buildings were we were handed covers and the coats from the theater."

She looked at her sisters and Maria.

"Of course they handed us coats which did not belong to us. They just dropped them on the floor, for us to sort them out. There was quite an uproar and lots of very unwomanly behavior."

She smiled very shyly at Jane as if to excuse herself for what she knew has been very unseemly behavior.

"I fear I plunged into the frail with quite an energy. I got myself a very flashy and warm coat and a rather great cover. I liked the coat very much."

After a few seconds she exhaled heavily.

"But I didn't keep it."

She looked up defiantly at her sisters.

"I traded it with Duchess Waintree's cape. It was a very shabby and used old one and it was way too small for her. And she being so much older and fa... Corpulent, had not been able to fight like the others. She was quite upset with what she got. Had the others known her she would probably have gotten a better share, but we were without light and most of us did not know each other. At that time, I didn't know who she was, but she reminded me of mama... I could not let her freeze in this chilly damp august night with that handkerchief of hers, could I? So we traded the coats and shared the one cover I recovered..."

She was quite relieved that Jane _finally_ smiled at her and came over to hug her.

* * *

**Next chapter: Pemberley love  
**

* * *


	13. Pemberley love

Back to Pemberley, the morning after. Family problems to settle and long suppressed passions coming out.

* * *

**Chapter 13: Pemberley love**

* * *

**Pemberley, August the sixth 1801**

* * *

Their meeting in the Hall had been accidental.

They saw each other at quite the same moment and they glided toward each other as in a dream.

Oblivious to everything else they found themselves embracing each other without even thinking that here, in the middle of the Hall, everybody could see them.

"Fitzwilliam" said she.

"Elizabeth" said he.

He was in heaven. When he awoke he had had doubts. Was it real or was it a dreamworld that would shatter in the next minutes?

He loathed the necessity to stand up.

What, what if if had been only a dream...

What if...

But no.

Their eyes had met and he had known that he was in that marvelous real world where Elizabeth Bennet had, finally, accepted to become Mrs. Darcy and where Mr. Darcy was the most content man in the world...

He was losing himself in a paradise of fragrance and happiness.

She was there against him and they were just happy to be one with the other.

At one moment he --she?-- let his/her lips seek hers/his and they had no problem to meet at midway. Another paradise opened up before them and the little they perceived of their surroundings just disappeared.

It was a rumbling, insignificant and distant, that brought them back on earth.

In fact, it was no rumbling but a cough. A very loud and sound and near cough.

They tore apart.

"Sorry to disturb...hmmm... Your conversation, Mr Darcy" said Mr. Gardiner. "But, first, as the Guardian of Elizabeth I could not _not_ try to stop what could, in present circumstances, be considered as unseemly behavior on your part. And second, your manager Mr. Evans and your Caretaker, Mrs. Reynolds, are looking for you. There is a delegation of your neighbors who is in want to speak to you. I do believe that they had heard rumors about what was happening in the South and that they want to know what you are going to do about it..."

Mr. Gardiner paced in and had to make a real effort to get his niece out of the thorough embrace of her fiancé.

"If, as I fear, you have not yet have had breakfast, I can only give you the advice to let your staff bring you something in your study. It seems that this very day has everything in it to be an even more taxing day than yesterday..."

He took hold of Elizabeth's hand and had to pull her toward the Morning Parlor.

Their hands touched till the last second and it was only then that Darcy gave the impression of awakening.

"Please do ask Mrs Reynolds as to bring tea and rolls in my study. Not only for me but for my guests. I'm sure some of them had had no time to eat before coming."

He smiled at Elizabeth.

"I'll see you as soon as possible, dearest Elizabeth. But duty calls..."

With a last wink of the hand he turned away and walked briskly toward his study.

Only when he disappeared behind that door did Elizabeth take notice of her uncle and that he was holding her.

"What happened, uncle? Do we have a problem?"

"Not we, dear,' said he. "_I_ have a problem and I fear it is a problem for which I do not have the proper skills."

He sighted.

"The only positive aspect of all this is that it could be considered as training. For when my own daughters are engaged. With a bit of luck I'll be better prepared then..."

* * *

He was quite satisfied when he arrived at the Morning Parlor to see that they were alone.

He lead Elizabeth to the table, helped her to sit and took his place in front of her.

"We have to speak, Elizabeth, I hope you agree about what..."

Elizabeth frowned. She was afraid her uncle would draw wrong conclusions.

"I had no idea, uncle. I really did not..."

He smiled at her and bent over the table to pat her hand.

"We know Elizabeth, we know... We were suspecting that Mr. Darcy had other reasons to call but we could not guess that he... you... would be so soon engaged and," he searched his words, "so engaged... We should, I believe, be aware that the wedding should take place as soon as possible."

Elizabeth frowned again.

"We did nothing, uncle, I swear you that..."

"I have not the slightest doubt about it Elizabeth. But we must be very cautious! I fear we cannot take for granted that the engagement will be sufficient..."

Elizabeth could only frown once more.

"I..."

"No more" interrupted Mr. Gardiner. "I do believe that your aunt is awaiting us in the guest library and it would be better if she assists to our conversation. Please go and join her while I ask Mrs. Reynolds to send us our meal there. She will understand that we have important and private things to discuss..."

* * *

Her aunt was there and she greeted her with one of those smiles who had always lifted her mood. She stood up and hugged Elizabeth in a friendly and maternal manner.

"How was your night, dear ?"

"Perfect" said Elizabeth slightly blushing. "I slept like an Angel. Never ever thought about the war and the invasion. Before going to bed I feared nightmares but none came..."

"God be blessed" aid aunt Gardiner. "It would have been a shame that your first night as a bride should have been polluted by fears and war rumors..."

"I was just happy..."

"The power of Love, dear, it has its good sides." She sighted. "But love also has its bad sides. I, for my part, slept very ill. Images of the children on the roads while war's erupted in the countryside do nothing to help you have a good night's sleep..."

"I'm sorry, my selfishness is..."

"Do not be sorry for being happy! I forbid it! One day, you'll have your own children and you'll pay your own price for loving them and fearing for them. Now is your time for happiness and since the war won't stop very soon, I'm sure your days of perfect happiness will be short and few. So, never speak of selfishness. Do gain from it and do not think of others. Reality will soon ask for its toll."

At this moment Mr. Gardiner came with a maid carrying a tray.

She put it on the table and soon left them alone.

"I was just saying to Elizabeth that she must not think about others and revel in her happiness. It will soon be difficult for her, no reason to spoil her joy..."

Mr. Gardiner sat at his wife's side.

"She's right. Take what you can. I could be that it won't last..."

Elizabeth looked at her uncle.

"You're scaring me!"

"Don't" said her aunt, "but do not forget that the times are dire. We are very happy to know that our children will soon be able to live here in this haven that your link with Mr. Darcy is able to provide us. Without it we should have been obliged to all come to Longbourn and you know how the house is cramped when we and the children are there..."

"It's also your home and we would have..."

"I know it Elizabeth. You and Jane would have welcomed one of my daughters and the others would have shared with Lydia and Kitty... But thanks to your present alliance, this will never be necessary and, the truth to be told, I prefer knowing them here in Derbyshire then in Hertfortshire at two hours horse-riding from London. We were lucky that they were out of Town these last days and we are even luckier to have the possibility to see them coming to Pemberley."

Aunt Gardiner took her husband's hand in hers.

"I'm sure the children will soon be on their way North. Accompanying your parents and sisters."

Elizabeth made a doubtful face.

"Papa will not leave Longbourn. It's his whole life."

"Don't fool yourself, girl. He knows that Longbourn will, sooner or latter, fall into the clutches of Mr. Collins. I'm sorry to be so blunt but I do believe that the future of the Bennet family has just wandered to the North of England, and to be more precise, to Pemberley."

Uncle Gardiner made a face.

"It could even be that it is also the case for the Gardiners. If London falls we will probably lose everything. Cheapside is not where most looters will go first, but my warehouses will probably be emptied if not looted... In a few weeks, it is more than likely that the only wealth we'll keep is what is now invested abroad or on ship's cargo..."

"And that's a reason more to speed up the date of your wedding with Darcy. Our future could be based on that very precise event."

Elizabeth looked at her aunt and uncle, surprise in her eyes.

She was so sure they were going to rebuke her because of her behavior with Darcy that she was left speechless about their present proposal.

"What if Mr. Darcy is not interested?' asked she.

Mr. Gardiner's face was immediately covered with a huge smile.

"Do not fear such an event, dear," said he. "I'm sure Mr. Darcy would marry you within the hour if it could be done. Not even including the passion you seem to have one for the other, he has obvious obligations to his name. He is twenty eight years old and Pemberley needs a heir. It's more than probable that the war has triggered his proposal. He knows that he could be called to fight against the French and in a war one never knows if the next battle will not be the last."

Elizabeth lost all color in her face.

"Don't be scared, dear, but you must consider the prospect. And this should induce you to hurry with the marriage. And I'm sure he is quite conscious of the risks he will run in the future."

"But he does not belong to the army... He is not a member of the militia... He is not an officer. He won't fight, will he?"

Mrs. Gardiner stood up and took her niece into her arms.

"He went to Derby, dear. He did it probably to see how he could be of help in the defense of the County. He's a man of his word and a man who lives up to his responsibilities. He will do what is necessary. And if it's fighting the Crown asks for, he will fight! But before, he will surely want to secure his estate by providing an heir as soon as possible. That's why he asked in such a speedy manner yesterday. He needs to be sure, in case..."

Elizabeth could only hold her breath.

_In case he died_...

She lost all color and her aunt hugged her more firmly.

"It's God's will, dear. But we are a long way from such an awful ending. He's very much alive and very much in love. I'm sure he asks for nothing more that to be wed to you as soon as possible."

Mr. Gardiner stood up and came at her side.

"As your guardian" said he, "I'll see him this very morning in order to talk terms with him. If we agree, as I'm sure we will, he will probably come to you to chose the wedding date. I'm certain noon will see everything settled to everybody's satisfaction."

Her aunt let her go and took her hand.

"I know you dreamed of a more staid engagement. But we must do with what we got. Let's see the sunny side of this scurrying; we will be able to marry you in presence of your whole family. I'm quite sure there are a lot of families who will have problems to get together in the coming weeks. And do imagine the joy of your mother when she learns of your wedding with Mr. Darcy."

That remark earned her a smile.

Yes, Elizabeth could very well imagine how her mother would react.

* * *

"Miss Elizabeth?"

She turned around and faced a rather stricken Charles Bingley. What of her red eyes and defeated mien?

"Sorry, I did not want to intrude... I would understand if you'd like me to leave you alone."

"You're not intruding, Mr. Bingley. I'm just a very silly girl who, finally, thought of what could happen to the man she is loving in such a dire epoch. The idea of Fitzwilliam dying in a battlefield just got to me..."

Bingley paced toward her and took her hand.

"I know it is not much, but let me assure you that he will always find me at his side. Here or on the battlefields..."

She shot him a shy smile.

"It's more than I'm allowed to hope, Mr. Bingley. The presence of a friend is often very important in dangerous situations..."

He thanked her with a smile of his own. He still had very sunny smiles.

"I'm sure you'll spend your time saving each others lives. Jane will be happy to know that you are side by side... She was the only one in my whole family who believed that Mr. Darcy was a good man. He was your friend, he could only be perfect. It seems she was right..."

His eyes became troubled.

"You believe Miss Bennet could still think of me in favorable terms?"

Elizabeth smiled at him. He was late but, last time she had seen Jane, he was not _too_ late. She was still crying at her lost happiness.

"Why not, Mr. Bingley. She has spent the last eight month trying to convince me that Mr. Darcy was a perfect gentleman and I do believe that the fact that he was your friend played a great role in her steady opinion. And at the same time she was trying to convince me that she had forgotten you, that your image no longer roamed her dreams and that, given another encounter between you, she would not fall back into the blackest depression one could imagine..."

She saw his reaction. All happiness has fled and she had a very depressed man in front of her.

"I know she lied to me, Mr. Bingley. You were in her heart all these lonely months."

He raked his hair with his fingers.

"I didn't know, Miss Elizabeth. I really didn't know. I was a fool and an idiot but I was pushed into believing that she was only acting on behalf of your mother. That she was trying to secure my fortune for the future safety of her family..."

Elizabeth took hold of his arm.

"Don't fool yourself Mr. Bingley. That's exactly what she _was_ doing. Had she not loved you, she would have been all smile and tenderness. In either case you would have had the same Jane. But the fact is that she _was_ madly in love with _her_ Mr. Bingley. The night after the ball at Meryton she was excited as I had never seen her. She was glowing like never before, her smile was so intense we were able to see each other even without a lamp. Pray, she had just encountered the perfect gentleman --her own word-- a man she could love and who was bringing to the family what mama was demanding of her... These days, she was the happiest creature of the world."

The image of Jane speaking about Mr. Bingley came to her.

"You must know that Jane is a very altruistic creature. She had dreams but she knew from very young that those dreams would come second to the necessities of the family. She knew that she had to sacrifice herself in order to insure the survival of her sisters who would lose everything the day our father died. And so she was perfectly ready to marry the first _rich _bachelor who would have wanted her. And then you came, Mr. Bingley. Rich, handsome and, and that's the more important for Jane, kind Mr. Bingley. She fell like a log! But there was that other part of her duty: to insure the husband the family was needing. So she played the role she wanted to get through: that she was the perfect young Lady. Not impertinent as myself, not boring as Mary, much better mannered than Lydia and Kitty and --the more important-- not as mercenary as our mother. So, she chose to be as she imagined a perfect Lady should be. Distant and smiling and uncommitted... As she believed you would want her to be..."

This time it was Bingley's turn to suppress tears.

Jane had loved him. And she had loved him the very same day he fell in love with her.

Fort the thousands time in his life he cursed himself for his lack of confidence. Never had he been able to take a decision without asking some others for an advice. And that time, that very important time he should have done what his heart was shouting him to do: propose her, there and then...

He had not and his sisters were able to convince him that his love was not returned...

"God" said he. "What a fool I have been!"

He looked at Elizabeth.

"Do you believe I still have a chance to correct my mistake?"

She laughed at him and took his hand.

"Last time I saw her she was still unable to hide the longing and the hurt in her heart when speaking of you. I see nothing that could have changed her so radically as to make her forget you..."

He looked at her and she knew that guilt was going to push him into very foolish actions.

"Don't forget, she on the road to join with us. If, at this moment there's nobody else in her life, it will still be true two days from now. If I can give you an advice, the second she climbs out of the carriage, there should be a certain Charles Bingley ready and eager to fulfill all her wishes at her side..."

She glanced at him and there was steal in her eyes.

"And if Jane is the most compassionate, the most loving and the most forgiving creature in the world, that is not the case of her sister who is strong minded, impertinent and rather unforgiving."

She pointed a finger at him.

"Be aware that said Charles Bingley had already spent all his rights to make her suffer. Should it be a mere more second."

He tried a shy smile.

"I promise, she will never more suffer on my behalf..."

"After what she already suffered on your behalf, it will only be justice!"

She squeezed his hand.

"One last thing, Mr. Bingley. Dying in battle is a very foolish way to show your love to a woman. Please do not forget it..."

And while saying it she knew that it was not only on his behalf that she was speaking.

* * *

Next chapter:


	14. Realpolitik

Back to Hunsford where Mrs. Charlotte Collins does have a keen interest in Jane's love life.

* * *

**Chapitre 14: Realpolitik**

* * *

**Hunsford, Thursday the sixth**

* * *

Once more Lydia was explaining how she and Duchess Waintree had surmounted the odds and had survived within what could only be called a women's prisoners' camp.

Charlotte made a sign toward Jane and they both went out into the garden under a shrubbery were even in this hot august afternoon it was cool and windy.

"We have to speak, Jane..."

Jane looked at her and she could see that her best friend's sister was not serene.

"About what?"

"About you, about us, about England..."

"About England, Charlotte? Pray, be serious, why should we speak about England! What's happening is happening, we can do nothing about it!"

Charlotte looked at Jane and shook her head.

"We, I agree, you, I'm not so sure..."

Jane's eyes darkened.

"I don't want to hear anything about _Him_!"

Charlotte came nearer.

"Jane, don't be a fool. They are here and if History has been able to teach us a lesson, it's that an invading army stays once victorious!"

"We cannot be sure, Charlotte. The King is probably mustering new armies and soon he will send them against the French."

"That would only mean throwing good money after bad, Jane. Believe me, these French are here to stay. And nothing our good King George will throw at them will stop them!"

She shook her head.

"Think about it. They came ashore at the exact spot where we had encamped most of our troops, regulars and militias included. They knew it and they came nevertheless. And what's more tragic, they pulled it through. They landed on English soil and our troops were unable to throw them back into the sea!"

She stood up and paced before Jane.

"I would really like to know how they stormed Brighton and the military camps. If we can believe Lydia, they did not even shoot a lot..."

"I asked her" said Jane. "When they came out of the Theater everything was under the control of the French. She never witnessed a fight. Thank God..."

"Yes, one could say that she came rather unscathed out of her little test. You know why she is here, don't you?"

Jane looked at the floor.

"Of course I know. The same reason he freed Mr. Collins..."

"To please you!"

"I don't want to be pleased by him! He's the enemy, he's the villain of this story..."

Charlotte stopped pacing and knelled before her best friend's sister.

"Jane, open you eyes, he is courting you!"

"I don't want to be courted by him" said Jane with fiery eyes.

"He-is-our-enemy..." hammered she.

"Yes" said Charlotte. "He is our enemy, but he is also a man and, if you want my opinion, a man madly in love with you. You'd be a fool not to use his feelings!"

Jane's eyes bulged in her face. For a second she was speechless.

"Charlotte!"

Mrs Collins didn't even blink.

"What? I have no shame to say so, Jane. It's a matter of survival. We must adapt!"

"It's the means of such adaptations I don't like," said Jane.

"Pray, be lucid, Jane! Since Julius Caesar every army who smashed the defending troops and was victorious stayed! As I see our future, we're French and we are French for quite a few years!"

"Charlotte, you can't really believe this, can you?"

Charlotte could only nod with strength.

"Indeed, I believe it! And the shameful defeat of our troops in Brighton gives me no doubt about the final outcome of this campaign. Not after having seen the French commander in chief..."

She stood up and took up pacing.

"Jane, I'm a woman of good sense. I'm no romantic and I never was. I married Mr. Collins not out of love or because I had the least regard for him. I married him because he was my only chance to ever be freed of my father's household and to get my own house. He wanted a wife and I wanted my own home. There was a price to pay, and I accepted to pay it... That's what I call good sense. And this same good sense tells me that if this d'Arcy is not to be trifled with in matters of war and politics..."

She stopped pacing and pointed toward Rosings.

"...It is not so in matter love! He seems to be quite as romantic as the other one out there in Derbyshire. But this one will not waste time asking himself silly questions about worth and family ties. He knows exactly what he wants. He believes you are the woman he needs at his side. And, as I see it, he won't take 'no' as an answer!"

"I won't be forced!"

"He has no will to force you, Jane. He wants you to come willingly to him. He will do what's necessary to convince you. That's why he gave William and Lydia their freedom back. Before you had to ask. He don't want you grateful, he wants you in love with him. He doesn't lust after you, he worships you. Like his cousin, I deem him a hopeless romantic who was believing that out there somewhere the perfect woman awaits him. And for d'Arcy, Jane, you are that perfection!"

Jane could only shook her head.

"Charlotte, I'm not perfect. I'm..."

"Nobody's perfect, Jane. But that is not what's important. What's important is that he believes that you are his perfect match. What's important is that _he_ believes it!"

Jane looked at her feet and kneaded her fingers.

"I cannot do this, Charlotte. I have no skill to seduce a man..."

"No need to seduce him, Jane. He's already hopelessly enthralled to you. All we have to do is use the power you already have over him..."

Jane looked up and frowned at her sister's friend.

"I won't play _that _role, Charlotte. I'm not such a one..."

Charlotte sighed heavily.

"Nobody else can play _that _role, Jane. He has chosen you and you owe it to your land and to your people to go on with it..."

Jane opened shocked eyes.

"What do you mean: I owe it?"

"As I said it! Our country has been invaded, Jane and, in my opinion, this campaign has already been lost to the invaders. And it happens that the chief invader took a fancy in you. You could be the difference between an honorable defeat and an dreadful subjugation. With a woman like you at his side, he could be appeased and tamed. Without such a one, who knows what could await our poor Nation."

Jane shook her head and looked at Charlotte with shocked eyes. This was clearly not a topic she wanted to discuss.

"I'm speaking marriage, Jane, nothing else. And I _do_ believe that's what he is looking for. I cannot be absolutely sure, but he seems very decided. I know he even wrote to Mr. Bennet..."

Jane frowned at her, a question in her eyes.

"He asked your address" explained Charlotte. "And I see no other reason to ask such a thing if not to send a letter. I doubt he has the time to make a call. Not yet for sure!"

She stopped pacing and sat next to Jane.

"He's serious, Jane. He is as serious in this courting that he is in everything else. He is not a man who will be pushed into believing that he doesn't love you even if he loves you..."

"Let Charles out of..."

"Charles is a fool, Jane. He could have had you and he let you down. He was unable to believe in his feelings and so he ended taking over the feelings of others!"

She took Jane's hand into hers and forced her to look straight into her eyes.

"But I do believe that you were not completely innocent in his failure to come to you. You never gave him a clear message of what you were really feeling. He could never be sure!"

Jane shook her head.

"It would have been untoward..."

"Blast untoward" exploded Charlotte. "We are speaking of feelings, Jane. Real feelings. What would have been untoward is to fake feelings to lure an innocent man into a false relationship. It's never untoward to give someone a clear understanding of the way things stand. Had you shown Charles how much you were in love, he would have proposed that very first night in Meryton."

She looked Jane in the eyes and hammered her arguments.

"D'Arcy-has-shown-you-his-feelings, Jane! He wants you to have no doubts that he is serious and committed. Give him the chance you refused to Charles! Do show him your feelings!"

"I have no feelings toward him" cried Jane. "I have no feelings..."

She could only sob at her own lies.

Of course she had feelings. And the more she spoke about not having them, the more she felt them right there in her heart.

"Of course, you have feelings" echoed Charlotte. "And he is not as blind as Bingley. He saw them in your eyes, Jane. You can lie to yourself, but you can no longer lie to him..."

Jane forced herself to stay calm. Else she would cry like a love stricken teenager.

"He is the enemy" repeated she. "He is an invader!"

Charlotte took Jane by the shoulders and shook her.

"That is of no importance, Jane. As I already said, the French are here to stay and d'Arcy, after having been an earl of the French Monarchy is now the equivalent of a Duke within that Republic of Theirs. He is what your family has waited for all these long years. A way to escape poverty in a way you never even dreamed of. With him, you're one of the most powerful women in Europe. With him the Bennet sisters become very suitable and interesting parties. All of them, Jane. All of them! And that even if his armies are, eventually, beaten."

That argument stroke Jane like a thunderbolt.

Yes, even if he was defeated, even if her country freed itself from the foreign yoke she would stay at his side. And he would still be a very important and influent French aristocrat.

And she knew that he would take care of her family. All her family.

Family was important for him. He had said it and he had shewn it.

Charlotte saw that her final argument had brought the results she wanted.

Jane was in love, that was a certainty. She had known it all along. And the Bennets were her husband's cousins. And within the new church hierarchy, her husband could gain power and status only by being of d'Arcy's extended family.

So, it was very important that Jane could find an agreement with herself on that matter.

And the only thing which was holding her back was her foolish sense of duty toward England and the Crown.

Nobody could deny that d'Arcy was invading their home country.

Nobody could forget that his armies were marching over British soil.

And for a pure and dutiful damsel of Jane's format, those were important points.

But she was also --_Charlotte knew that from her conversations with Lizzie_-- a romantic. And her dreams of a White Knight coming to save the damsel in distress had just became a very disturbing reality.

Even if the Knight was more Gray than White, he was _her_ Knight and he had effectively saved them. And since then he had shown that even if she was not sure that _he_ was _her_ Knight, he was sure that _she_ was _his _Damsel.

"He won't abandon his men" said Jane finally. "He'll stay at their side and fight till the end..."

Charlotte could only note that Jane had just taken his defense. Or perhaps not his defense but had spoken in his name and on his behalf and in a rather positive way.

_Luckily, she's gotten over that particular hurdle_, thought Charlotte. _A few more to come_...

"And he'll probably win," added Charlotte. "And even if he is vanquished, he won't stay for ever in a British fortress. And when he comes out, his wife will have the same rank than before... Let's not forget that he is a Darcy and that even for the Gentry that's a name that counts."

A suspicious glint came in Jane's eyes.

"What are you steering at?"

Charlotte decided that the time for a more forceful discourse had come.

"What I am steering at ? I'm speaking of you and your relationship with the man who is, whatever should happen in the future, the number four of the French Republic and, if his campaign goes on as for now, the number one in Great Britain! He had shown that he has feelings for you and I know as I had known with Bingley that you are in love with him..."

Charlotte was not totally sure, but she knew that, at some point, it was necessary to assert one's position.

And promptly Jane confirmed it.

"I cannot accept my love for him, Charlotte. And if I cannot accept it, what will it be with the others. What will they think of me..."

Charlotte was very tempted to be very blunt. But she could not take the risk. Jane had confirmed her suspicions and it was more than she had hoped for.

Being too blunt would only startle the maiden she was trying to manipulate.

No, she had a overture and she had to use it.

"Jane, you do not need to fall into his arms and even less to fall into his bed. Do not forget that he worships you. He fell in love with Jane Bennet, the courageous, strong and fearless Jane Bennet and then he discovered that this Jane Bennet was covered and hidden under another Jane Bennet. A shy, compassionate and kind Jane Bennet. And he would not be the romantic he had shewn to be if what he discovered had not definitively convinced him that you are the perfect mate he was looking for..."

She went into a whisper.

"He doesn't want you to be wanton, Jane. He wants you to be shy to the world and open and strong only to him. He wants to protect you but he is also smitten by your willingness to stand up and protect those you love. Show him your esteem and for a time he will be content with it. He will ask for nothing more."

Jane shook her head.

"I couldn't do that. It would be like lying to him..."

_Go and bed him,_ thought Charlotte smothering her temper. _He will even be happier_.

"It won't be. Not as long as you're not sure of your own willingness to walk at his side. He's a sensitive man. He will understand that you cannot decide in the blink of an eye to change everything in your life. He will have the patience to wait for you. He will have the love to wait for your feelings to clarify."

Jane nodded thoughtfully.

"Indeed, I do believe you're right, Charlotte. He won't ask me for more than I'm able to give. He will be patient."

A smile blossomed on her face.

"That's why I was out so early this morning. I had no idea of the right way I should go. I spent my night reliving the day before. How he appeared out of nowhere just to save our life, how he smiled to me while carrying me, how he stood up against Lady Catherine to fend for me. At a point there were only his eyes, looking at me, seeing nothing but me! I couldn't fathom why he was so intruding in my life."

She made a face.

"I tried to drive him out of my mind with images of Charles. To no avail! He would not stand a second against one hour of yesterday's memories..."

_No surprise there_, thought Charlotte. _How could this whelp stand against a creature like d'Arcy. How could any normal man stand against such as him_.

"Charles Bingley would have been a perfect choice for a time of peace and family shores. D'Arcy is a man for interesting times. A man for interesting women. And it seems that, for him, you are the most interesting woman of all."

"It seems so, Charlotte, but I'm ashamed of my feelings. How is it possible that a man who kills without even thinking about it, a man who confessed that he is deporting part of the Gentry to instill mere terror, that such a man I find alluring?"

She looked at Charlotte.

"Who knows, my own father is perhaps already aboard a ship sailing abroad..."

"No risk there, Jane. If traveling, your father is traveling toward Rosings, invited by d'Arcy. Your family runs not the least risk. Don't forget, he freed Lydia and William just to please you. He'll never go against a member of your family... Never..."

Charlotte took a deep breath.

She could probably go no further with Jane.

But she had one last argument.

"And don't forget Jane: while he is courting you, he is probably not his most efficient strategist."

* * *

**Next chapter: on the road**


	15. On the road to Rosings

Well, you all believe you know Old tame Mr. Bennet, don't you. You're wrong. I prove it!  
_**Third day...**_

* * *

**Chapter 15: On the road to Rosings**

* * *

**England, London and surroundings. Thusday, August the sixth and Friday, August the seventh  
**

* * *

"Your rank?"

Edward Bennet looked up at the French --_Breton_-- sergeant who rode with him side by side.

"Major" answered he. "Royal Horse..."

He was not aware of it but after only an hour he had reversed into his old military self. He spoke with as few words as possible and, if possible, by giving straight answers.

"That's _commandant_, isn't it?"

He nodded. It was the equivalent.

"Where?"

"Our American colonies, mainly. I was stationed there to root out the insurgents. Did a good job of it, too. Not the best memories of my life, though. Never good to fight against brothers. Tends to bring nightmares..."

"That's quite right" approved Kervadec. "I have not a single nightmare about Italy, Egypt or Syria. All my nightmares are French ones. When we fought against the insurgents of the Vendée. Never fought uglier battles... Never had bloodier hands."

Mr. Bennet could only nod.

He was not very proud of this period of his life. But he believed, at that time, that the colonies had to remain British. Still believed it for what it was worth.

"Why did you quit?"

"Did I quit?"

"Sure, if not you would be major general by this time. Good officers always finish generals, that's a sound rule."

"In a Republican Army perhaps, not in an aristocratic one. We tend to promote titles not efficiency. But I could probably have done it to lieutenant general. I Had the skill and the name. But got a problem. A woman..."

Kervadec laughed almost silently.

"Happens always. Got her pregnant?"

"No, got her father ashamed of me. He married her away fast and sound. Never got to say my opinion on the matter. Neither did she... Her father didn't liked what I had to say to him. Would have thrown me out. Quited before it happened."

"Got married soon afterwards ?"

"Same year... Didn't spend lots of time choosing. Took the prettiest one I could get. Was not the best of choices, wasn't the most bad, either. Got me quite a few pretty girls..."

"Beautiful ones also" said Kervadec. "The blond one is quite a looker. The old man fall for her the second he saw her. Never before did I see him show such interest in a woman."

Edward Bennet knew he had got his sergeant at the very point he wanted him.

"How is he?"

"Brilliant" answered the sergeant. "Only the General is a better leader. Couldn't say which of them is the better strategist. Bonaparte has more intuition. D'Arcy prepares much more thoroughly. Never goes into a fight without knowing everything about the enemy. Was quite in rage when the Prince of Wales failed to show his ass in Brighton. He was counting on taking him prisoner. It would have mightily pleased the Consuls. Never came to it..."

"And as a man?"

"Exotic... He has strange tastes and he spends hours each day training with his sparring partners. Never saw a man move so fast. And when he kicks in the face, it hurts just from viewing it, you can believe me..."

"I believe you, I believe you. Never was an adept of getting kicked in the face either."

He pointed to his pistols.

"That's my weapon of choice. I'm quite good with them. I kill a man at fifty paces. Was quite a duelist in my time."

"He prefers his funny two handed sword" said Kervadec. "It's with it that he killed the Highwaymen who attacked your daughters..."

"Highwaymen?"

"Perhaps common bandits, I don't know. They tried to attack your daughters and two other women. He heard them shout. He went in and saved them..."

Mr. Bennet looked at the sergeant.

"You're not making this up?"

"Never! He is that sort of man. Never could stay out of an unfair fight."

He made a face.

"Or perhaps out of any fight... I know him since Egypt and he was never one to hide behind his guards. Always in the thick of it!"

"Not always a good way to survive..."

"But a hell of a way to be worshiped by your troopers, Sir. They know he won't command from somewhere safe. They like him for it. And as the Egyptian said, he has the _Baraka_. God's on his side..."

Edward Bennet closed his eyes and tried to imagine how this Darcy looked.

"Does he look like his cousin, Fitzwilliam Darcy?"

"No idea. Never saw the other Darcy. Kennedy will be able to answer your question. In a few days he will have seen both of them."

"How is he physically?"

"Tall, long black hair dressed in a pony tail, shaved square face, deep blue eyes. Very brawny, especially in the shoulders. Likes to dress fanciful. Likes physical effort..."

He blinked at Mr. Bennet.

"Girls and Ladies often take a fancy with him. He likes to flirt but he is no womanizer. Only saw him with one girl all these years. They no longer are together..."

Mr. Bennet smiled at the sergeant.

"You seem quite resolute to show him to me in the best of lights."

"Wouldn't want you to say 'no' the day he asks for her..."

"And you're so sure he will?"

"I searched and found no one who would agree to bet against. That's a sure thing for every one of us. Couldn't find a better one, either."

"Thanks for the compliment, sergeant but I doubt my daughter is the only one who could have pleased your d'Arcy."

"Probably not, but she clearly is the only one who gives him the desire to have her at his side. And we never saw him in this fancy mood before. Bouncy gait and so. Quite smitten is our commander in chief..."

"Why?"

Kervadec looked at Mr. Bennet rather astonished.

"Who knows with love? He saw her and he found her irresistible. I, for may part, can only agree. Were I not a lowly soldier, I would dream of her, too..."

Mr. Bennet smiled at him.

"One is always free to dream but sometimes the dreams vanish and nightmares take their places..."

"Your Lady love?"

Mr. Bennet nodded his agreement.

"But my 'why' was not about a love affair. My question was why he came here with his armies..."

Kervadec was clearly astonished by that last question.

"We are at war, Sir! It should have been evident that one day or the other we would try..."

"What of the Navy? Normally they should have been there to intercept you..."

"Were not! If I have understood everything, your ships were following our troop transports going to Ireland. There were ships going to Ireland but there were no troops aboard. The troops were elsewhere. Going to Brighton to catch you Prince of Wales..."

Edward Bennet could only nod.

"So that was the plan, came ashore and capture the Crown Prince. That part of the plan was a failure."

"Yes but we got so much ammunition, chariots, horses and supplies that we could launch our next step with a full week's advance. He couldn't believe it... There was everything to supply our seventy thousand men for two weeks. We were free to go on without losing a single day..."

Edward Bennet did not show his surprise.

Seventy thousand men! By God, the whole French army was in Great Britain. And why not? Every good strategist knew that with concentration of forces comes impact and with impact comes Victory...

No wonder the troops stationed at Brighton were crushed.

"Casualties?"

"Two hundred and forty... We had two barges that went under in the middle of the Channel. Saved as much as possible but with their weapons and gear, they went down like stones. Could do nothing! Luckily we lost nobody when we came ashore. The sentries on the Beach were all asleep. Good preliminary work by our agents. It was smooth like never. You lost only a few dozens. The others we caught in their sleep..." He laughed up. "Or dancing!"

And they didn't even lose a part of their army. As it stood, the French Army was complete and with morals of winners. Nothing in Great Britain could stop such a force.

He perhaps...

If he got in shooting range with this d'Arcy. He could put him a bullet in the head. He'd die immediately but the French would be weakened... Considerably weakened.

_Let's hope Jane is not smitten with him. I would hate it to bring her more unhappiness than my death will already cause._

His face must have shown something because Kervadec came nearer.

"Don't dream, we will never let you in his presence with even a knife. We are no fools, you know. And if I could have let an old funny man talk unsearched with his future son in law, I'd never let an old sinewy and experienced veteran like you see our commander in chief with more than a tooth stick in his pocket... Not now that I know that you've been quite a duelist in your time. Wouldn't want the young Lady to be unhappy because of the death of her papa... Would we?"

Mr. Bennet took a deep breath. Never underestimate the enemy... That was a law he had never, until now, forgotten. And he should have known, sergeants were the most intelligent of all military creatures, and generals the least...

"Point taken, sergeant... I'll try and be wise!"

"Thanks, Sir. I'd not like it to injure you. But if I must, I'd do it..."

"Point taken, sergeant, I said! You'll get my pistol when we arrive."

"And the knives..."

Mr. Bennet smiled at Kervadec.

"And the knives..."

* * *

They arrived to the London suburbs.

"From now on, you let me make all the speaking. I don't want to hear anything else than yes, sir! and no, sir!"

"We should have gone around..."

"We'd have lost a day and I remind you, you and your man are exhausted. We'll spend the rest of the day and most of the night at my brother's house. There you'll have the time to sleep..."

"I'll have you guarded, Sir!"

"I know that and I have not the least wish to take you into a trap. I want to arrive safe and sound to my daughters. Nothing else! And to achieve that, I need you to be alive, won't I?"

"Sure, Sir! But that doesn't mean you will not try a dirty trick to give informations to your King."

Mr. Bennet laughed aloud.

"To Hell with George the third! If there's one man who will never ever get anything more from me, it's our jolly crazy King George."

Kervadec looked at him with little suspicious eyes.

Why, by God, had this d'Arcy not send someone unimportant? A Colonel or a Major? Why had it to be a sergeant?

Clearly, there was a man who knew how an army was to be run.

* * *

"Mr. Bennet," said Jonas. "I'm sorry, the staff is at minimum. Only my wife, cook, two footmen and me are present. All the others have chosen to spend these awful days in their families. Hopefully that doesn't pose a problem?"

"Of course not, Jonas. They did well. It's always better facing dire hours with one's family around you. My escort will use the servant's quarter in the basement, please ask cook to prepare a hefty meal for my men. We have traveled a long distance and we leave next morning at the earliest hour."

Jonas, Mr. And Mrs. Gardiner's butler, looked at him with hopeful eyes.

"Some news from the Master and his family?"

"Yes indeed" said Mr. Bennet. "Your master and his wife are still in Derbyshire where they are guests of Mr. Darcy at Pemberley. My wife and Kitty are _en route _to join them with the Gardiner children. We all believe that they will be better protected there in the North than here in London..."

"That's good news, Sir. Let us hope they will soon be able to come back..."

"Let's hope, Jonas, but do not allow yourself too much of it! The situation is dire and the French came ashore with quite a lot of troops. We must fear that our army will not be able to stop them. Even if we had six Xenophon, they would still outnumber us, my dear Jonas"

Jonas who was, as Mr. Bennet, a History enthusiast, could only open wild eyes. Rumors had spread all over Town but never in such a size...

Mr. Bennet shot an eye toward Kervadec before frowning at the butler.

Jonas became immediately his old self.

"What do you want to eat, Sir. Our larder is full since I decided to be prudent at the first bad news... And good thing I did it, the Town is now the lair of thieves and swindlers who hoard things and sell them at unbearable prices."

"Then serve us what has chances to spoil if not soon eaten, Jonas. We can run no risk, it could be that what's in these larders is all what will be available for a very long time..."

Jonas made a bow and quited the parlor.

As soon as the butler was outside Kervadec looked up and smiled.

"Nice try" said he. "But we have heard about Xenophon and his ten thousand Greeks. D'Arcy gave us a few history lessons. You're lucky that the number of troops is an information he wants us to spread. Otherwise I would have been forced to kill this poor man..."

Mr. Bennet looked at Kervadec with exasperation in his eyes.

"So he gives also history lessons to his sergeants, this d'Arcy. Is there a thing he does not do?"

Kervadec nodded.

"Loosing, Sir! Never saw him in that sort of the business!"

* * *

They left two hours before sunrise.

The trip to Rosings would take a great part of the day but well rested and well fed, the twelve men under Kervadec's command were quite satisfied with their sergeant and their host.

"Found your letters" said Kervadec as soon as they were out of Town.

"Had no doubt you would find some" replied Mr. Bennet. "But perhaps there are a few of them you did not find."

"Could be, Sir! But if I didn't find them, nobody will and it comes to the same..."

"You're probably right, sergeant. What's you exact role in d'Arcy forces?"

"Security and protection, Sir. I'm the one who will be shot in place of d'Arcy if bad comes to worst."

He looked at Edward Bennet and shot him a smile.

"Or, with my luck, I'll be the poor sod responsible for the safety of my Master's wife..."

"That's quite a job, sergeant."

"I'm quite good at it, Sir. Got seven Muslims before they even saw the Old Man. Seems I have an astute eye for the approaching danger..."

Mr. Bennet gave him a fatherly pat.

"Be reassured sergeant, Jane is the most shy and reserved of all my daughters. You should have no problems to protect her if I should avail myself to accept a French invader as my son in law..."

"Glad to hear it, Sir. But obviously you're not speaking of the right daughter. The daughter I mean is the girl who attacks Highwaymen with a staff and a frown..."

"Never would Jane do such a thing..."

"Blond one ? Blue eyes ? A smile like a sun ray ?"

"Yes, that's Jane, but..."

"That's the one, Sir. Staff and frown and everything..."

"You must be kidding! Never would she..."

* * *

**Next chapter: Courting tiger...**


	16. Courting Tiger

A last conversation between d'Arcy and Jane. He's about to go on with his invasion and before leaving Rosings, he had to speak to her.

* * *

**Chapter 16: Courting Tiger...**

* * *

**Rosings, Kent. Friday August the seventh 1801**

* * *

She was where his sentries had said.

She was looking at the little valley north of Rosings and the superb august morning light gave the countryside an enchanting aspect.

He spent a few minutes looking at her.

This time her hair was well dressed but not too well. Strands of hair were showing that they had problems to surrender to the general direction.

He moved in order to see her face.

He came at her right and he smiled at the perfection of her face.

But she was not smiling and he knew he was responsible for this lack of a smile.

Without looking at him she spoke to him.

"I've seen you... As usual you came out of the void, but I saw you looking at me."

"It's the only view I crave for..."

A hint of a smile came on her lips.

"You're quite a seducer, monsieur. Your words shout of passion and love and your acts are those of a killer and an invader..."

He moved toward her.

"Even a killer and an invader can fall in love, Miss Bennet. Not often, but, when it happens, it is quite a blow."

She glanced at him and then looked back at the little white and brown cottage where two girl children were playing with dolls. Nothing but the greatest grief could stop a child from playing and being happy. When had she lost that wonderful capacity?

"Why are you a killer, monsieur d'Arcy?"

"By choice, Miss Bennet. I have only contempt for the human race. Each swine I kill is a victory for the universe."

"And you killed a lot?"

"Indeed, Miss Bennet, I killed a lot of ugly and dangerous people."

He looked at the two little girls.

"Never a child though, and very rarely a woman... I do have some mercy for the little ones and admiration for those who are merciful enough to accept to bear life even while seeing what will probably happen to their offspring..."

"Genesis 1:22. And god blessed them saying Be fruitful and multiply and fill the water in the seas and let the fowl multiply in the earth" said Jane.

"The greatest lie of all" said d'Arcy. "Look at all those _would be_ Christians who profess love and compassion and who accept that men are enslaved because of the color of their skin and that workers they put to work must process fifteen hours a day in order to feed their families. I hate them with all my heart and I will have no remorse at killing each and everyone of them."

D'Arcy moved nearer. A pace at the time as if he was fearing she would bolt if he came directly.

"I won't run away, monsieur d'Arcy. I was waiting for you. I wanted to hear what you have to say for yourself."

"Nothing, Miss Bennet. I'm no lawyer and I refuse to argue for what I did. I did what I had to do and even if I regret some of my decisions, I do not regret the path I choose twenty seven years in the past..."

"What's your age, monsieur d'Arcy?"

"Forty two, next fortnight..."

"I see..."

She took an long breath.

"I'm twenty two, monsieur d'Arcy. Twenty three next year in May. I'm no more a girl but I don't feel myself as mature. I have doubts, I have scruples and I'm unable to reach a conclusion in matters important."

He breached the last distance between them and took hold of her hand.

"If I can help you reaching only one of them, please ask, I promise I will answer all your questions with as much honesty as my situation permits..."

She looked at his hands holding hers.

"Well, monsieur d'Arcy, let's try a few easy questions : why are you here and what do you really want?"

"That is a question with layers and layers of answers" said he while looking at her delicate fingers. He could imagine those fingers gliding along his back while...

He stomped on these fantasies.

"Duty for a first. But it's not really true. It's true in a vague and forlorn way. I'm French and our countries are at war and bringing war to your country will probably avoid my country to be invaded by German mercenaries in the pay of your German kings... So when the First Consul asked me to lead this invasion force, I was only too happy to accept."

He looked at her face and her eyes trapped his mind. He could do nothing more than stare.

Stare at her eyes, wonderful blue green eyes. Stare at her delicate nose. Stare at... Everything... Everything that was her!

* * *

Jane could not smother her own smile. Charles had looked at her with admiration in his eyes. God, most men looked at her with admiration in their eyes.

And sometimes with lust.

But never ever had a man looked at her like this. He was as if stricken. And every muscle of his face beamed contentment and pleasure. He was there, fecing her, holding her hand and he had the look of a man who had just reached the most desired goal of his life.

Charlotte had spoken of him worshiping her.

Perhaps was she right...

All in all, she seemed to be quite a good observer of human kind in general and of the Bennet kind in particular.

Had she only spoken to her, that night at Meryton. Had she only...

She stopped that string of thoughts. She would have been shocked if Charlotte had even made an allusion...

She would have been her usual bigoted common idiot.

"You spoke of multiple layers, monsieur d'Arcy. Duty's the first..."

He came out of his daydream but his smile persisted.

"Yes, duty's the first. Than there's revenge!"

"Revenge, monsieur d'Arcy? What did Great Britain do to you?"

"The Royal Navy, to be specific, Miss Bennet. The Royal Navy has that bad habit to sink d'Arcy Admirals. And the last one they sunk was my favorite Grand Father. If you take into account that, at this time, I already hated and despised my father, his death was more than a shock for the teenager I was. I do believe all the hate I had for said father was duplicated and fell on the British. I never got over that peculiar hatred..."

"And though you pretend loving me, a typical British maiden..."

He shook his head.

"I must protest. If you were the typical British maiden, my men would have found not a free square yard on the shore of England. All the men of Europe would have been there to grasp one of you... And what a fight that would have been! No motivation problem, there..."

She blushed at his way of weaving compliments in his sentences.

He stopped talking and his eyes lighted from within. And his eyes were of a shade of blue she had never seen. One could lose oneself in such eyes.

"And though I fell in love at the first sight of you. Had you been in a navy officer frock, I would probably have passed my way and so not saving you and your friends and sister would have been my penance for all eternity..."

A laugh escaped her.

"I fear the Navy does not have uniforms for women."

"English sailors are an ugly bunch of superstitious sexists dogs" said he. "Had I not already hated them, I would now! I, for myself, would have no hesitation recruiting women to fight at my side. As you have shewn, they are quite capable of defending themselves and those they love. And in a fight, motivation is everything..."

"I prefer not being forced to fight, monsieur d'Arcy..."

He looked at her and his smile disappeared making place for a very serious mien.

"You would not have to. I could be at your side, fighting off everything and every one."

She agreed by nodding.

"I've seen your skills, monsieur d'Arcy. Quite impressive. You seem to be quite the warrior..."

"In my heart I'm a scholar, Miss Bennet. Nothing pleases me more than building new artifacts and devising new theories. But in order to learn what I wanted to learn there was a price to pay. And that price was learning to be a warrior..."

"Strange way to recruit scholars. What has fighting to do with knowledge?"

"That was the very question I wondered of for fifteen years. And finally I found the answer..."

"You did? Would it be possible that you explain to me why having the skill to kill with a sword is important in the line of hoarding knowledge."

"I have the skill to kill with everything, Miss Bennet. I can kill with my bare hands as effectively as with a sword, a staff, a knife or a garrote. Before and while giving me access to the world's knowledge they gave me all the means to protect my knowledge and to understand what, in false hands, too much forbidden knowledge could start."

"Forbidden knowledge, monsieur d'Arcy? How can there be forbidden knowledge?"

He looked at her through half closed eyes.

"Very easily, Miss Bennet. Our societies are overcrowded with forbidden knowledge..."

"How so?"

He took a long breath. He would not have thought that he would be here, this very morning, speaking of philosophic matters with the woman he fell in love with. He should be holding her in his arms and madly kissing her!

But he could sense her doubts. He could sense that she had not yet found an answer to the dilemma she was living because of him.

So philosophy it would be!

"Look at you, Miss Bennet. Do you think you will ever have a chance to help ruling this country as a member of Parliament?"

"Of course not, I'm a woman..."

She stopped and looked at him with comprehension in the eyes.

_My, my, and she's so smart_...

Never would he depart from England without her at his side. He knew it now as he had known it the first second he saw her.

He smiled a quite adoring little smile.

"You see. There is knowledge that is forbidden to women. As there is knowledge that is forbidden to farmers, workers and common sailors. These are the ways a ruling class makes sure that those under them --and women are, in terms of social positions, under men-- never will be able to overthrow them."

She shook her head.

"Why would we women want to overthrow the men?"

"Because they refuse to let you be as complete as you could be, Miss Bennet! They cripple you and, shame on you, you, as mothers, are their best crippling agents..."

He took a deep breath and nodded at her.

"Do you really believe that all women are born besotted, mindless creatures? Do you really believe that being born a farmer makes you automatically an inferior human being? No, Miss Bennet human societies are full of inequities and the most ugly of them all, is the way societies tend to restrict the availability to knowledge for certain part of the whole. Women being the greatest part of those who will not get their fair share..."

"But we are educated, monsieur, we have teachers..."

"Only in a very selected and seemly field of knowledge, Miss Bennet. Do you believe you'll ever get a course in economics or politics? Men have decided that women are sweet, loving, compassionate but mindless creatures who have not the intelligence to rule their own life. Never will they be able to rule the country because of their innate restrictions..."

"We had Queens. Powerful and crafty Queens who ruled the Kingdom..."

He did not answer to that remark. She knew as well as him that those exceptions were only that: exceptions. Three Queens for millions of domestic slaves... The numbers spoke for him!

She decided to come back to her initial question.

"Why then making you a warrior? I must admit I don't see the relation..."

"We should perhaps blame that on your woman mindlessness, shouldn't we" teased he.

"You cannot preach one thing and his contrary, monsieur d'Arcy..."

"I can always plead the occurrence of an exception, Miss Bennet. Even if most women are smart, one can always encounter a silly one..."

For a second her eyes darkened and than her smile came back.

"You're teasing me, monsieur d'Arcy. Be careful with such way! Papa has teased our mother as long as we can remember, my sisters and I. I could say that we are quite efficient in uncovering teasing remarks..."

"And that's an useful skill if I ever saw one!"

"It protects us against believing the sense of the words and concentrating on the feelings they convey. Papa is always teasing mama, ans she rarely gets the gist of his remarks. But what could pass as a vexing pastime on his part, we soon reckoned as his way to stay in touch with her, to show her that he was never indifferent to her. He cares in his very peculiar way for his wife, even if he teases her more than everything else..."

"I won't have to tease you to get your attention, will I?"

She shot a stern look at him.

"You've got all my attention, monsieur d'Arcy. And still you have not answered my question."

He nodded and was glad for the answer. She just, in her very concealed manner, admitted that she was taking his offers into consideration. He could not ask for anything else.

"When you have great knowledge, Miss Bennet, you have great responsibilities. And one of these responsibilities is not to give any of your Knowledge to unworthy people. And that's why, being human and as such being prone to making failures, they teach you, before giving you access to the most dangerous knowledge, to correct said failures if such happen."

Jane's face lost all colors.

"You mean _kill_ the unworthy."

He nodded and his face became very grim.

"And _everybody_, he could have had a chance to teach..."

She swallowed.

"Did you make such a failure?"

"Once... And I had to kill more than twenty persons because of it. I never did it again. It was a harsh but necessary lesson."

"You killed him that you had taught?"

"I killed _her_ that I had taught. And all those who had sent her to me mimicking love to get my knowledge. Anger was a welcomed ally that very night and even anger would have not been enough to male me kill her if I hadn't found her in the arms of another. That night I swore to myself never again to fall in love..."

She looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"So much for foolish oaths" smiled he. "But all in all, I'm quite satisfied. It took fifteen years to meet another girl who was able to make me forswear myself..."

"I'm sorry..."

"Don't be! I was no monk and I had female company for the most part of my life. But I never again had the urge to take a woman at my side and to ask her to be my counterpart in a future family life."

He hold up a hand asking her to speak no more.

"I'm not asking for an immediate answer. I was able to wait fifteen years, I'll be able to wait a few weeks more. And with the invasion, I cannot afford to do all the courting I should. I owe it to my men to be at my best in the skills they need me to use to ensure a victory. But even if I cannot really court you, I'd be very happy if you would accept not to say 'no' just now..."

He let go of her hand and walked backward.

"I came to announce my --_our_-- departure."

"More invading to do?"

"I fear so much, Miss Bennet. I did not come to take only a chunk, I'm here to swallow the whole. And I fear that having you at my side, right now, would severely lessen my efficiency in just doing that."

He smiled at her.

"A last word, Miss Bennet. I'm a man of darkness and power, I will never deny it. As such it would be of great help to have at my side a creature of light and compassion. To reach, some day in the future, a certain balance and bring back the humanity I lost many years ago. I know you could be this..." He hesitated and his smile came back, more shy and more thoughtful. "...Angel. And with your help I could thwart the devil which lives in my heart. Please, Miss Bennet, do promise me that you'll consider my offer to come..."

He stopped talking and looked at her a question in his eyes.

"I promise, monsieur d'Arcy. And I'm already considering that offer that is still to come..."

"I can ask for no more!"

With these words, he bowed, turned around and disappeared in the woods.

As always, once out of her eyes, he just vanished...

* * *

Next chapter:


	17. Pemberley Prospects

Back to Pemberley and the Darcys, Bennet, Gardiners and Bingleys.  
As you'll see everything is _not_ perfect.

* * *

**Chapter 17: Pemberley prospects**

* * *

**Pemberley, friday the seventh**

* * *

Darcy was exhausted. The whole Thursday had been spent in meetings and war councils. After their few minutes together in the morning, he had been unable to see Elizabeth fr more than a few minutes. And each time her uncle was orbiting around them like an angry wasp...

At times Fitzwilliam was sure that he wanted to slip himself between them.

He could have cried out!

Did this man really fear he could be so unseemly as to...

Fitzwilliam stopped and forced himself to be frank.

Perhaps he was right, after all. Without him, he, they would probably have been a lot closer these few minutes...

A lot closer!

And the evening was spent in idle chat and idiotic card games.

He had tried twice to get Elizabeth to slip out of the Great Parlor...

She did it but each time her aunt was shadowing her. He not the least chance to see her alone.

And when finally he thought that everybody was abed, he still encountered Mr. Gardiner on an late night stroll...

They went together in the kitchen to gather a much needed glass of milk!

No need to says that the night has been awfully short in terms of sleep ad awfully long in terms of time.

He stood up with a will to stop this non sense.

First thing in the morning, he would search Elizabeth and speak with her.

He looked at the sun.

First thing now!

* * *

"We should return to the Inn in Lambton" said Mr. Gardiner while dressing in his dressing room. Their chambers were perfect and very nicely furnished. Miss Darcy had been very forthcoming with her choice of lodging for the Gardiners.

"Dear" said his wife. "How would people react at such a decision. They would believe the engagement is already in question... It would be a very bad omen, indeed."

"I caught him roaming the halls, dear. I'm sure he was planning to intrude on her..."

"Ohhh" said she mimicking to be shocked. "What an awful choice of terms. You can't be sure, he was perhaps really in need of a glass of milk?"

"And I'm the holy ghost!"

"I hope not, dear, it would be rather inconvenient..."

He came out of the dressing room half dressed and struggling with his cravat.

"How can you take it with such detachment? Were I not been there they would have..."

"You cannot be sure and what do you plan to do? Camp the next two months in the hall before Elizabeth's room?"

"That's exactly the reason why we should decamp and go to Lambton."

"We would injure his pride in front of all his neighbors. Do you really believe there's still one inhabitant of Derbyshire who ignores that they are engaged? Bringing her to the inn would claim to everybody that we do not have trust in Mr. Darcy. Not a happy message to convey for future members of the family. And, must I remind it, members who could very well soon be paupers?"

He sat near his wife and looked at her with dread in his eyes.

"Her parents trusted us to protect her..."

"Against Highwaymen and adventurers. Not against half of Derbyshire and ten thousands a year! I'm sure our sister, were she here, would camp before our door in order to guarantee that you do not disturb the nightly walks of Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy."

"She could do it, she's the mother. I'm the ward, it's my duty to..."

She interrupted him.

"...Do what you can. There are forces one cannot withstand. Passionate love is one of these forces, be careful not to stand in its way..."

He looked at her and a small smile came to his lips. He shrugged his shoulders.

"Blast it, you're right. He's a gentleman and showing him mistrust would be a deep breach of manners."

"Indeed and since he is a gentleman there's, in the end, nothing to fear... She'll be Mrs. Darcy and that's the only important thing..."

* * *

To his surprise, to his great surprise, she was alone in the morning parlor.

He would have bet on finding her in company.

He was behind her and his lips were on her neck even without him knowing doing it.

Her hand came to cover his.

"Elizabeth could I have a few minutes of your time?"

She looked up at him by bending her head backwards.

"Fitzwilliam, I do believe I just accepted to spend my whole life at your side, I'm sure I will be able, in my current state of mind, to secure you a few minutes of my last hours of freedom..."

He kissed her fleetingly on her lips. The kiss made her smile blossom.

She turned on her chair to face him. Sparkles were in her eyes.

"Fitzwilliam, what a pleasure to be able to see you alone. I was fearing uncle Gardiner would never let me out of his eyes..."

She stood up and, to Fitzwilliam's great surprise, let herself be taken into his embrace.

"Elizabeth" whispered he. "Elizabeth..."

She smiled.

"That's my name Fitzwilliam, I'm quite happy you still remember it..."

"Never would I..."

She paced back and looked at him with frowning brows.

"It was a joke, Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy. I know you'd never forget my First name. No more that I could ever again forget yours..."

He smiled and apologized.

"I'm sorry, Elizabeth. I'm not accustomed to..."

"Than you'll have to train" said she. "I'm quite a proficient in joking, mischief making and laughing and I'm sure a man whose smile is as beautiful as yours will soon be a convert..."

Soon they were again in each others arms.

"Didn't you have something to ask?"

"I did but I'll wait till someone comes and forces me to let you go. Meanwhile I'll hold you as long as possible..."

She laughed and he loved feeling her body's tremors against his.

"You could ask me while your face is buried in my hair. I'm quite sure it would be very convenient to have a conversation while holding each other. Nobody but us could hear us... It would be quite satisfying." She laughed once more. "I suspect there are more pleasant ways to have a conversation but I fear for _those_ we might have to wait till after the wedding."

He laughed and both their laughs became one...

Elizabeth was very happy to hear him laugh to her little jest. She had feared that he would be as serious in private as he was in public. It seemed he was not.

"Speaking of wedding..."

She bent backwards and looked him in the eyes.

"Tomorrow?"

He stayed there open mouthed and bright eyed.

She smothered her next laugh. How she loved him when he looked like a dumbstruck teenager and not serious _master_ Darcy.

"Too soon? Well, what about Christmas?"

He took hold of himself and to Elizabeth's delight she saw sparkles in his eyes.

"Perhaps we could find a compromise between these two dates? I would have proposed the day after your father's arrival or two weeks from now whichever is soonest."

She looked him in the eyes and hugged him lovingly.

"Let's hope than that they arrive a Saturday since mama will never accept another day than Sunday for our wedding..."

She inched herself against him and rested her head on his chest.

"Tomorrow, on the other side, tomorrow, would be such a _great_ choice. Mama wouldn't be here at all. Great advantage that! No cries, no nerves, no endless preparations."

She bend backwards and they could look each other in the eyes.

"And than, there's the little detail of tomorrow night where Mr. And Mrs. Darcy could, eventually, test a few of these other ways to make conversation."

He blushed and it made her burst out laughing.

"Nothing but advantages to tomorrow... Wouldn't you agree?"

He hugged her fiercely.

How could he have had the strength to live without her at his side?

* * *

"Charles? Could I ask you to spend a few minutes in my company?"

Bingley looked up from his newspapers --the local newspapers out of Derby whose main article was telling about the invasion. Nothing that they hadn't already known-- and silently nodded.

"Where to?"

"My study if you please" said Fitzwilliam. "It's a private and delicate matter..."

Bingley made a face and frowned at Darcy who was already walking toward the library's door.

He followed more than a little anxious.

* * *

"I owe you an apology, Charles and I'm not sure that our friendship will stand up against what I'm going to say..."

"You're going over to the French?"

His attempt on humor earned him what could be called, in those days, a smile.

Fitzwilliam shook his head.

"Would it be that, I could give you excellent reasons of the why, Charles. For what I'm going to confess, I have only very bad excuses..."

"Confess, Fitzwilliam? What could you have done you should want to confess to me?"

"Meddling with your life, Charles! Sacrificing your happiness out of egotism and pettiness!"

Charles took hold of an armchair to steady himself.

What could Fitzwilliam mean with those words?

Was it in relation with Jane?

"Last winter, Charles, Jane Bennet was in Town and she made two attempts to call on you. I and your sisters intercepted her at each attempt and took the decision not to inform you!"

All blood vanished of Bingley Normally sanguine face.

"You did what?"

This time he could only seat himself.

My God, she had called! Twice!

Twice she had come to call when his own behavior should have pushed her into forgetting him as soon as possible.

Had he been informed, he would have known that she had feelings for him. And even such a dumb oaf like him would have been able to make the right decision.

What could she be thinking of him, now?

He had had hopes that his silence could be forgiven.

But that! For him not to accept her call could only have been interpreted by her in one way...

He had played with her feelings and now, while back in Town, the country beauty no longer was of any importance.

She could only believe that he scorned her.

In the most ungentlemanly and cowardly fashion.

He looked at his _friend _who immediately went on.

"At the time, I had very convincing and sound reasons to do such an awful thing. She was socially to low and had a mercenary streak. You deserved better than a woman who looked only after securing your wealth for her family. As your friend I had the obligation to protect you against a very unfavorable match..."

Fitzwilliam took a deep breath.

"I know now the real reason I have separated you from Jane Bennet, Charles." He shook his head and bit his lips. "As I said it was a petty and egotistic reason. I was already in love with Elizabeth, Charles. And I had convinced myself that she would be a mismatch for me. That my family would never accept her and that her low birth would pollute Georgiana's chances to find an acceptable partner. And if you stayed with Jane, Charles, I guessed that my life would have become a nightmare! Imagine, _me _forced to see the woman I loved and refused to love, every time I came to visit you and your lovely wife... Because I knew she would be there with her preferred sister. And I could not stand the prospect."

Fitzwilliam went to the window and looked out at his estate.

Normally it would have brought him strength and serenity. Now he was too ashamed to find such a solace.

"I have been twice a coward, Charles. First when I chose to make you pay for my decisions and then three days ago when I did what I prevented you to do..."

He turned to face his friend.

"Will you ever be able to forgive me, Charles?"

* * *

Charles Bingley was a desperate man.

In a matter of days he had been made aware that he had lost his love and that the best friend he had ever had was a petty manipulator who had chosen to sacrifice his best friend's happiness in order to protect himself...

Charles Bingley's world had just collapsed.

He was galloping in the countryside around Pemberley without seeing anything, without looking at anything. His heart was bursting within his chest and he had this ugly desire to end everything once and for all.

How could one live just after having received proof that the persons you loved were either a bunch of treacherous liars or a woman you scorned in such a way that never ever would she want to even speak to you again.

Charles Bingley, sociable and open and smiling and companionable Charles Bingley was discovering that he was lonely and forlorn. That what he had believed of his sisters and his best friend was nothing but lies.

They didn't love him, they used him, they manipulated him, they only thought of themselves.

Never of him or his happiness.

He could bear it no more. It was too difficult. It was the end of his world...

He was about to chose a wild ride through the peaks when a voice tore him out of his suicidal mood.

"You seem disturbed, Mr. Bingley..."

He turned and saw Mr. Gardiner approaching him on the gray mare he refused an eternity earlier. He had wanted a stallion. A horse that would not stop at difficult paths and dangerous tracks...

"Some bad news, Mr. Gardiner. Nothing a good gallop through wilderness could not correct."

Mr. Gardiner smiled at him.

"It's quite astonishing, you know..."

Bingley looked at the older man with surprise in the eyes. What could he be meaning?

"Your father and you!" said Mr. Gardiner. "Such a likeliness in body and such a difference in mind. Never saw him on a horse or in the wilderness. Every hour of every day in his study. Working, working and working..."

Charles Bingley looked up.

"You knew my Father?"

"Quite well, Mr. Bingley. I even knew you! You were quite young when your father and I decided to cease working together. I had the capital to start my own business and so we went our different ways. But everything I know and I own is thanks to your father. Never saw a better businessman or a better teacher... Shame he died before teaching you his skills."

Bingley raised his shoulders.

"The Bingleys no longer have use of common skills: they no longer have to work," said he. "We are now of the Gentry. We spend our time in idle talk, dancing, card playing and flirting... And for those who like deceiving, we manipulate, we lie and we cheat..."

Mr. Gardiner came nearer.

"The way you describe it, it's a long way from something I'd like to do all my life."

He put his hand on Charles' shoulder.

"Let's walk a few moments. I must confess my hindquarters are shouting at me for this rather energetic ride..."

He dismounted.

So did Bingley, out of good manners and curiosity.

"How was my father?"

"As I said, an astute and skilled business man. And he had a nose for the good bargain... You couldn't imagine how he could smell the best way to make money... When I was a young lad, we..."

* * *

**Next chapter: **


	18. Pemberley Plans

Still in Pemberley with the Darcys, Bennet, Gardiners and Bingleys.  
Life goes on and some have taken decisions...

* * *

**Chapter 18: Pemberley plans**

* * *

**The same friday of August**

* * *

"Funny how life is sometimes" said Mrs. Gardiner. "Never would I have believed that we would meet again with Charles Bingley's children. It's fifteen years, dear."

"Would he not have died, we would have met them already. But his wife didn't like us, you remember?"

"I do, and I do believe Caroline is the perfect match for her. Arrogant, manipulative and full of contempt. I'm quite glad Elizabeth destroyed this romp's prospects on Mr. Darcy. How she must suffer to see them so happy. If I'd have a choice, I'd just chosen just that sort of revenge..."

"Charles Bingley was my master and my friend..."

"And his wife was a shrew and a very unlikable person. It was good riddance when she died and I'm quite pleased that Mr. Darcy choose Elizabeth and not Caroline Bingley."

She looked up from her dressing table.

"And you should have heard the joyous comments of the staff when they learned that Caroline Bingley was definitively out of the race. They would have danced a jig and they probably have in the concealment of their quarters."

"You're quite definitively unkind this morning. Why did you sent me after young Charles if you despise his family so?"

"I despise the women of the family! They are petty and manipulative and full of spite. He, on the other side, is a charming young man who would have made a perfect husband to Jane. Now I suppose it's too late..."

"Who knows, dear? She's coming in the next days here. I'm quite sure she is still in love with him. If he finds the courage to apologize, he still has his chances..."

"His sisters will not have him do it..."

Mr. Gardiner let himself smile with an air of intense satisfaction.

"I doubt his sisters will have their say with him in the future. He's quite angry with them. He learned this morning from Fitzwilliam that Jane was in Town and that she called twice at his Town House. He's quite unhappy with what he considers a betrayal. I do believe he has some prospects for them... And they won't be happy with them..."

* * *

Charles took a deep, deep breath and knocked at Caroline's door.

Since Darcy's engagement she was 'ill' and took to her chambers.

Louisa was, of course, with her. Mr. Hurst, as usual would be in one of the parlors beginning, continuing or ending a bottle of something with alcohol in it.

"Come in..."

It was Louisa's voice but he was sure the other sister had agreed.

He went in.

His conversation with Mr. Gardiner had made him worlds of good. So much he had never known about his father. So much he had still to learn. And he had, in the end, fathomed that he was losing his time in idle unworthy tasks. Mr. Gardiner was a man of great culture but he was a man who loved what he was doing and who spoke of it with passion and force.

Yes, he had agreed, a man was not meant to spend his life doing nothing and since the army was not what attracted him he should, perhaps, try the same career his father excelled in.

And with the invasion, everything was different. It was an excellent time to change one's life.

He opened the door and went in.

He bowed and then went to kiss them. He would have preferred not to but he was not quite sure if he really wanted to cut all bridges with them. It would depend on the way they reacted.

"I have some news for you, sisters, I have not yet been able to inform you about..."

"News?" asked Louisa. "About the war?"

"No" said he. "Private news, financial news, personal news..."

Caroline puffed.

"You know we despise financial news, Charles. Let our managers handle that sort of things. They are trained to have such worldly occupations..."

"I know," said Charles, "but this time it interferes in your private lives."

"Does it?"

"Yes it does and it will have rather drastic consequences to the way we used to live!"

Both sisters looked at each other with frowning faces.

"As you know, I went to Derby with Darcy. We went to the Lord Lieutenant to speak about the war but, since we were in Derby, I went, on Darcy's advice, to Derby's greatest Real Estate Broker --who is also a friend of the Darcy family --to see what I could find on the Estate Market. There were quite a few demesnes to sell and we found that two of them were quite interesting and I bought them."

Both sisters could not conceal their surprise.

"You bought both? But why?"

"A s an investment" answered Charles. "With the war we are probably going to lose most of our cash and a great deal of father's businesses. With the war, these two demesnes will very soon grow in value and we will be able to sell the one we do not use for a hefty profit. Or we could keep them. Real Estate will never lose all his worth..."

"How much of our reserves did you spend?"

It was Louise, the eldest, who had, in her youth helped her mother, who would ask those questions.

"Three quarter of what we possess and ninety percent of what we had at the Bank of England. Our accounts on the Farinese's are untouched. Since they are on the Venetian bank where even Napoleon has his loot, we believe those sums will be safe."

"And where are those Demesnes?"

That was Caroline asking. Would one of those be at her taste?

"One here in Derbyshire, just to the North of the Peaks and one in Lancastershire, east of the town of Lancaster. Both have the same amount of property around and a Manor of, all in all, the same dimensions."

He looked at his sisters and his eyes were not smiling.

"I'd like you to take our carriage and look at both of them. Since one of them will be our future home, please be careful to chose with care. It will, after all, be what will be called the Bingley Estate..."

Caroline could only look at him with disbelieving eyes.

"Must we? It's only an investment. Why should we chose one as our home. We could stay here. I'm sure Mr. Darcy will have nothing against harboring us for the next few weeks."

"I'm sure of it" said he. "But I'm not so sure I'm still wanting to live under the same roof as the man who, knowingly, had concealed the fact that Jane Bennet has called twice at our Town House."

His remark brought astonishment in the faces of his sisters. And annoyance, and fear.

Not the least trace of guilt.

His eyes lost all friendliness.

"Sisters, I cannot cease to be your brother and I will continue, in the future, to treat you as it is seemly to such a one. But since, now, I know that my happiness is not something you deem important, I feel myself released of such petty obligations as showing you everlasting respect and treating you as loved ones. We are family, and I will do what my duty commands me to do. But, since I'm only a pawn in your petty little games, I'll let you play as much as you want... at our new Estate where I, for my part, will not reside."

He looked a last time at them. They still thought only of themselves. If they had regrets, it was only because of the consequences it brought to them.

"Last thing, I will be returning to Town as soon as possible. With luck I'll be able to save a little more of father's fortune. Good luck to both of you..."

He bowed, turned around and went out.

Both sisters could only look, open mouthes and dumbfounded at the closed door.

* * *

"What's the matter, husband?"

Mr. Gardiner looked up from his books and tried a smile at his wife.

It did not came up very smoothly.

"Nothing important. I was looking at our accounts..."

"And the situation is critical, is it not?"

"Critical, I would not say, but we are about to lose quite a part of our fortune. Fortunately, most of our warehouses are only half full and most of our money is invested in cargoes who went out of England to other parts of the world. With a bit of luck my captains will be able to sell and know that there are no more free English ports where to come to. We could, with luck, lose less than fifty percent of what we own."

Mrs. Gardiner came to her husband.

"We are safe, dear. And soon the children will be at our side. What we have that is most precious is, or soon will be, in safety. We have built a business in the past, we can do it again, can't we?"

Mr. Gardiner breathed heavily.

"I'm no more the young ambitious businessman I once was. I have bad habits. I like to be at home in the evening, I like to speak and play with my children. I'm no more able to work twelve hours a day and still be able to spend time with my loved ones. I'm not yet an old man but I'm nearer to it than ever before."

He looked at her.

"When the children have arrived, I won't stay, you know it, don't you?"

She nodded.

"I knew it all along. When you heard the news I sensed that you wanted to go back and save what could be saved..."

"I have dozens of Workers, dear. I cannot stay away for too long. They will probably have problems feeding their families and I have corn and wheat in my warehouses. I prefer giving it to them than letting it be stolen by the French."

He stood up and went at her side.

"Darcy has seen it too. He asked me to take letters for his agents. He hopes to be able to clear a few of his accounts before everything crashes. But the greatest part he has been able to do from here where most of his fortune is invested."

He went to the window and called his wife to join him.

He showed her a distant house.

"He proposed a bargain. A part in our business against this little Estate there. It was the house of one of his great uncles who died without an heir. It has been maintained and is approximatively the same size as our London Town House... We could take it immediately..."

Mrs. Gardiner looked at the little house.

"He's doing us a favor, isn't he?"

"If I save my business, he'll be richer than before and he will have parts in shipping and trade with far east India..."

"And if you do not save our business?"

"We will have an estate where our children will be able to live in safety and comfort. It has approximatively the same income than Longbourn. Not much but much more than I could guarantee with what will be left of our business..."

She nodded.

"And this man we suspected of being arrogant and haughty..." She went into the embrace of her husband. "I do believe our Lizzy has just got the last Shining English Knight..."

Mr. Gardiner pouted...

"Let's not give him to much credit. He has after all just secured the most smart, witty, lovable and passionate woman of all the Empire. At the end, it's probably him who is on the winning side..."

She smiled at his words. He hugged her with energy.

"And, even if he is a Shining White Knight, he is also a man who never loses its wits..."

"How so?"

"He put a last condition to the bargain".

Mrs. Gardiner frowned.

"What condition?"

"We are to invite my sister as often as possible" said her husband. "And as he said, more often would be more better..."

This time she laughed and his own heart rejoiced.

* * *

**Next chapter : Pemberley spring**


	19. Pemberley spring

A few intimate moments between Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam and a discussion between Fitzwilliam and Charles

_**Fourth day**_

* * *

**Chapter 19: Pemberley spring**

* * *

**Pemberley, saturday the eighth**

* * *

This morning they had escaped at first light.

He had been waiting before her door with a basket of food, her shawl and her bonnet.

Their lips had just brushed and then they had gone into the gardens where Fitzwilliam wanted to show her every brush and every tree which had played a role in his life.

"I want you to know all the places where life played with me, Elizabeth. I want you to see the places where the youth I was made failures and injured himself but I want you also to know those places where I found solace in my most direst moments..."

And so they went.

Going from lawn to brush and from river to pond...

He had stories about so many places that soon Elizabeth had forgotten half of what he had just said.

But it was not important.

They would come again and he would tell her anew.

What was important was that he was telling her everything he believed important about him.

Where he and Wickham had fought for the first time --_and where he knew his very first humiliating defeat-_- and where he won against his nemesis for the first time. The first of many victories intermingled with a few defeats.

"I loved him, Elizabeth. He was like a brother. We did everything together and it was mostly him who shew me most of the places I now worship. And then, one day, he began to try and push me out of my father's life..."

He looked at her and the old wound was there, no more bleeding but hurting. Hurting so much.

She drew him towards her and he placed his head in her lap.

"It did not came of a sudden. But I refused to see what was happening. How could I fathom that he who I considered as my brother was playing such an ugly role?"

He bit on his lips and his eyes were so full of sorrow that she found no other remedy than to brush her lips against his and give him the most delicate of all kisses...

Soon the delicacy went out of the window and she had to tear herself apart from him or they would have exceeded the limits...

"Wow," said he. "I could have kissed you till the end of time..."

"Two weeks or the day after father's arrival! Wasn't that the agreement?"

"Thirteen days now at the most" answered he. "And I do remember you pleading for tom... Today!"

She nodded with force.

"That I did, Fitzwilliam, but if I remember well, a certain Fitzwilliam Darcy, out of some long outworn excuses, half convinced me that the presence of the only living parents of the couple would be his pleasure and his honor... So I yielded but half hearted, I must admit."

"You could try and convince me that yesterday I was wrong, dearest Elizabeth. I'm finding myself in a mood to be convinced, right now..."

She shook her head and raked her fingers in his hair.

"That won't be possible, Mr. Darcy. We Bennets have a strong tradition of holding to concluded agreements... And teasing our poor mates... You'll have to endure my teasing for the next thirteen days, that will be your chastisement for not relenting to your fiancée's wish."

He breathed out loud and sound.

"I got myself a shrew" cried he. "But luckily we're not yet married! I could..."

She blocked him with both her hands in her lap and if her face was serious, her eyes were sparkling like never before.

He loved it and longed to see her come nearer, nearer...

If, at this very moment, he could kiss her, he knew a new world would open up...

But she did not come nearer.

"I know what you're trying to do, Mr. Darcy. And it won't happen. I'm be as stout as can be a maiden in the presence of a seducer of your format. And do not dare to use your wonderful smile to lure me in the way of your appetites, Mr. Darcy, it..."

Of course, he smiled... Not out of spite but because he could do nothing else.

How could he not smile at her. How could he stop smiling while she was at his side?

"You dared, Mr. Darcy!"

"So I did, Miss Elizabeth. And if I could, I would never stop smiling at you..."

She came nearer but not near enough for him to catch her lips.

"Try and do smile, Mr. Darcy, because, I do love you even more when your face is lightened up with that smile of yours..."

He looked at her.

"If God wills, then I'll smile till the end of all times..."

She put her fingers on his lips and a strange sorrow came upon her.

"Please, don't do it... Let it be a rare gift you bestow on me in those times I'm in need of your love... There will be those times, Fitzwilliam and there will be times where I will be full of sorrow and grief. At those moments, promise me that you will ever have that particular smile in store for me..."

He nodded and kissed her fingers with light thoughtful kisses.

"I promise, Elizabeth..."

He stood up and helped her up.

"I have a last place to show you, Elizabeth. A place I found myself the day my father died. I don't know how I was able to find it, but I had so much sorrow that I wanted to hide somewhere nobody could find me. It is a place I do believe is unknown to most inhabitants of Pemberley. Perhaps it is known to one or the other Gardener but I doubt it, they would have shewn it to me..."

He took her hand and began to guide her towards the woods that stood on the highest hill of the Estate.

At a moment he stopped and looked at her.

"You'll have to crouch..."

"With you as a guide, I'll crouch to the end of the world..."

She was rewarded with one of what she was beginning to call his sun-smiles.

* * *

"God, Fitzwilliam, it's marvelous... Never would I have thought that such a place even existed..."

He was only grinning like a happy schoolboy.

She loved his most secret of places. She loved it and she looked around her with excitement and fire in her eyes.

It was a groove. A group of perhaps fifty very old and very impressing Oak trees. And the Oak-trees formed a circle and in the middle of their circle sprouted a spring. A marvelous and tingling Spring that flowed into a natural little pond the perfect size for two people to lie side by side.

And between the Oaks and the water there was the most extraordinary mossy bed one could imagine.

As he hoped, Elizabeth couldn't resist and passed first a hand over the moss just before sitting down. He came to her and sat at her side...

She looked at him and her eyes were sparkling.

"This is the most beautiful place I ever saw and it is also the most petty attempt I ever witnessed..."

He looked contrived...

She didn't believe a second that he was regretting what he was trying to do.

"You knew, didn't you?"

"Knew what?"

She looked at him with suspicion.

"What this place induces..."

He bent over her and their lips touched.

Soon they kissed and soon his hands were crawling all over her.

_Of course he knew, _thought she_. This place's literally reeking with sensuality. My whole body is asking for him to join me. To_...

Her hand touched the surface of the pond and the cold crystal water tore her out of what would have been a very good --_very bad?_-- idea.

She took a handful of the cold water and sprinkled Fitzwilliam's neck with it.

He was shocked out of his endeavor...

He glanced reproachful eyes at Elizabeth. "_Why"_ was written all over his face.

"We said that we would wait, Fitzwilliam, didn't we?"

"It's torture Elizabeth. I need you..."

"It's no less torture for me, Fitzwilliam, I hope you believe me. But we will have to wait all the same."

He looked around him.

"It's the one place I swore that I would love the woman of my life for the first time, where we would be together in all senses for the very first time."

She smiled at him.

"I'd love it, Fitzwilliam."

They exchanged thoughtful looks.

"It will be difficult to escape the wedding to come here," said he with pleading eyes.

"I agree, but we will be able to find a way, won't we?"

His smile --_the very special one_-- blossomed again.

"Of course, we will Elizabeth. This is our place and this is were I'll make you my wife..."

He came nearer.

She struggled out from under him.

"But not now, Fitzwilliam, _not now_..."

* * *

"Darcy?"

Fitzwilliam turned around to face Charles Bingley.

His friend's eyes were as dark and unrelenting as the day before. The conversation of the former day was still between them.

"Yes, Charles?"

"I'll be leaving, I can't stay. Not with the image of your happiness with Elizabeth before my very eyes. It hurts too much."

Fitzwilliam paced toward his friend and he reached out with his hand.

Bingley didn't let them touch.

"Don't, Darcy. I don't know if my anger is sufficiently appeased to even believe we could be friends again."

"I'm sorry, Charles... Really sorry..."

"I do believe you, Darcy. I do believe that you did what you did unknowing of your real reasons. But even so I'm still unable to forgive you. You should have spoken to me, Darcy! You should have come to me and spoken about it. We could have found a way out of this dilemma without the hurt, without the betrayals..."

Fitzwilliam made a face.

"I'm not very good at speaking of my feelings..."

"That's what friends are for, Darcy. To speak of difficult topics one do not have the courage to speak about with others. Even family..."

Fitzwilliam reached out and this time Bingley mad no effort to dodge his friend's hand.

"Stay, Charles. Stay till Jane arrives. Let's try and speak with her. I'll apologize and let her know my role in this whole affair. She will know you're faultless."

"I'll be leaving with Mr. Gardiner," said Bingley. "He proposed to help me sort my businesses while in London. He worked with my father, he still has a good grasp of what my businesses are made of. So I will wait till the arrival of the Bennets and Gardiner children. And I will speak with Jane but it will be with very little hope. What woman could forgive a man who seemed to scorn her?"

"Elizabeth could, Charles. And she agrees that between them, Jane is the most compassionate of the Bennet sisters. She will not hold a grudge. It's not how she is..."

Charles could only nod.

"I know she won't hold a grudge, Darcy. But what about the rest? What about Charles Bingley being a fool? What about being an idiot easily manipulated by friend and family? Why would she want a man who began with his own feelings and ended with those of others?"

Fitzwilliam tried and sooth his friend.

"It's not so, Charles, it's..."

"Yes it is, Darcy! Yes it is! What man could accept that he could be led to think the exact opposite of what he wanted to think? What kind of man is that?"

He raked his hair with his hand.

"I'm a sham, Darcy! An overgrown boy who believed in fairy tales. Who believed that the world was like his nursery: full of marvelous innocuous things and people."

He shook his head.

"A sham, Darcy!"

He calmed himself and took a long steady breath.

"I'll stay and I'll apologize to her. But I will not renew my courting, Darcy. Not yet. I'm unable to think of myself without anger and shame. As of today I'm not a good husband stuff. I hope she will forgive me and if, when I'm whole again --_or finally_--, she's still free, I'll come back to her."

Fitzwilliam could only accept his friend's decision.

He tried a last approach.

"Would you have a few more minutes to spend in my company? I have a few precisions to give you about the demesnes you bought..."

"Of course, Darcy!"

* * *

They were in Darcy's study and he was opening a great book.

A book with maps and layers of papers over the maps.

"This is the result of a study made by the leading geologists of the university of Heidelberg."

Fitzwilliam saw the question in Bingley's eyes.

"I didn't ask professor Nathan Bayley, our Cambridge teacher, because I wanted this affair to stay a secret. The German came, made their researches and published a book about the research I financed but who, here in England, is going to read a German Study about Northern England? Nobody! They are all so arrogant about what they believe to know..."

He shook his head. Old story, that. He would never overcome it...

"They stayed three years and..." He showed the big book. "This is the result..."

He opened the book at the county of Lancastershire.

He covered the physical map with a first layer of translucent paper covered with geometric forms, lines and dots. Bingley recognized roads and villages. Some squares were colored lightly.

Darcy showed a rough little square to Bingley.

"This is your Lancaster Estate, Charles. The other geographical figures represent other demesnes. Those in yellow are mine or Georgiana's. There were quite a great number of yellow dots around Bingley's Estate.

Fitzwilliam covered the first two layers with another one.

This one showed various lined zones.

"The squarred zones indicate that the underground contains Iron ore. The gray zones indicate coal deposits. As you can see, your demesne lies over a rather interesting iron ore deposit."

"As are most of your estates there..."

"I"m buying what I can, Charles. And were I cannot buy the Estate, I buy the mining rights. As a matter of fact, I own the mining rights of the whole of Derbyshire and a good chunk of the iron ore deposits of Lancastershire."

He placed his hand over the map.

"This is the economic future of the Kingdom, Charles. And I wanted you to have a part of these riches. Because you are my friend and because I owe you more than I will ever be able to give you back..."

Charles said nothing and only looked at the maps.

Darcy was right. Here was the economic future of the Kingdom.

If the Kingdom did not become a part of the French Republic.

Darcy recognized what he was thinking about.

"Even if the French win, they do not know about the underground. They won't steal real estate forlorn in the northern counties at hundreds of miles of Town. We will be able to save our fortunes and even to increase them. Be it in a Kingdom or a Republic..."

Bingley looked at Darcy, a part of his old admiration back.

"You are really thinking of everything, aren't you?"

"Everything economic, Charles. But in matter feelings and friendship I'm quite the ass..."

That brought a smile on Bingley's lips.

Perhaps not everything was lost.

* * *

**Next chapter: War heroes  
**


	20. War heroes

Where we learn that the battle of Brighton had its English heroes. Sort of...

* * *

**Chapter 19: War heroes**

* * *

**Pemberley, Saturday the eighth**

* * *

Richard looked at himself in his new uniform and he saw a smile blossoming on his lips.

"Finding yourself handsome enough, lieutenant general?"

Richard turned his head and shot a poisonous look at his "adjutant", captain George Wickham.

"When will you learn to show proper respect, Captain?"

"With an old war buddy like you? Let's not forget that everything which is happening today is happening thanks to my efforts and my relations..."

Richard came nearer. He didn't want anyone hearing what he was going to say.

"Your efforts and your relations, Wickham? Had you been on the beach supervising you men, the French would not have come ashore..."

"My men and I would have been dead and quite a lot of everybody else also" replied Wickham. "And the French would have com ashore nevertheless..."

"You do really believe that we should thank you for being a gambler and a drunk?"

Wickham put a finger on the insignias of his new uniform.

"Got me a rank more and probably something more later today. If that's not thank enough..."

"You should have been shot, Wickham," whispered the new lieutenant general. "You abandoned your post to go into town gambling..."

"You have no proof, general. I was in town, yes, but clearly I was there in the line of duty. And I, let it be reminded, was the hero who overcame your gaolers and got you out of your little holding cell..."

"More the reason to suspect you, Wickham. You're a coward and a thief and I'm sure you would not have come to my help if it had been dangerous!"

"I came because you're an old friend, lieutenant general! For no other reason! I know you suspect me of having had plans of eloping with Georgiana Darcy but that's not the case! I loved her and I would have..."

Richard took hold of himself just in time. Wouldn't give a good image of the army if the new lieutenant general punched his new "adjutant" in the nose in front of half the English aristocracy, now would it?

"Shut up and do never again speak the name of my ward in front of me or, I swear it, I'll kill you on the spot!"

Wickham gave him a shameless look.

"I'm the hero tonight, do not forget it, general. You said it yourself to the Crown Prince. Thanks to _me _and _my relations_ you were able to free these highly esteemed general officers and bring them to safety in London."

Richard looked at his "adjutant" and did nothing to conceal the contempt he felt for him.

"You're a sham, Wickham and someday I'll prove it!"

"Not tonight, general, not tonight." He turned away and looked at the half full Throne Room. "Tonight we will be honored by the Crown Prince himself, general. We the only heroes of Brighton! I have no doubt that if you could have found someone more suited than myself to stand at your side, you would have, general. But no such luck! You're stuck with bad old Wickham. Try and live with it, general, there will be no better replacement."

He shot a satisfied smile at his superior officer.

"I'll let you stare at your image, general. I, for my part, am going to bask in my new and deserved popularity."

He bowed a perfect bow.

"General, it has been a pleasure serving at your side! I hope we will have other occasions to fight side by side!"

* * *

Wickham was soon very angry.

The company was aloof and he was not acknowledged by everyone non military.

The military part of the crowd bowed at him and smiled admiring smiles at him. But the Gentry and the Aristocracy just looked through him.

He stomped on his anger and played his role of smiling hero to perfection.

They would soon be on the run. Most of them were only still in Town because the Crown Prince would have been very upset not to see his faithful followers at one of his parties.

And since there was no better man in England at holding a grudge, most of them had come even if theirs families and jewels were running on England's country roads.

The minute this party ended they would flee as speedily as possible.

Some by carriages to the North, most by ship to other parts of the Empire where the French army had a chance never to arrive.

There would be quite a lot of things abandoned behind.

He had already made contact with a few old buddies and this very night two squads of burglars were "visiting" the lone homes of touring aristocracy.

And then there was his new employer.

That snake of a d'Arcy who payed his debts in order to enroll him in his little invasion.

Wickham could only shiver at the memory of their last encounter.

He had had the password and he had been brought to the commander in chief of the invaders.

He was there bending over maps and little tin soldiers when he came in the room.

He looked up and Wickham could only stare at his opposite so dumbfounded was he.

What was Darcy doing within that tent?

The exclamation came out against his will.

"Darcy?"

"Not that Darcy" came the voice. Not the same voice. And, finally, not the same man.

He came from behind the table to look at him. Definitely not the same man. This one had the eyes of a killer. He knew, he had seen enough of them.

A shiver walked down his spine.

"Hello, Mr. Wickham. Needless to say that I'm quite satisfied with the intelligence you have sent us. Very thorough and very accurate . Even if you failed to signal that the Crown Prince would not be at the Ball."

Wickham could only stare, once more. And swallow his fear.

"Was he not?" stammered he. "He should have! Everybody was awaiting him..."

"Gout," said d'Arcy. "I got, _finally_, the good informations. Poor George was unable to stand. So he parked his bulk back in his bed... Quite disappointing."

Wickham's stomach shrunk under d'Arcy's gaze.

"But, luckily, this invasion went much better than I could have asked for. So the absence of the Crown Prince can be considered as a little unavoidable drawback of no importance. Nobody could have guessed that, for this year, dear George would be eating even more unreasonably than usually."

D'Arcy went back to his place behind the table and with his right hand showed him the map.

"Great Britain, Mr. Wickham. Soon French Great Britain! You'll have played an important role in the demise of the British Empire. Shame nobody will ever know the prominence of your influence on the success of this campaign."

D'Arcy looked him in the eyes, all traces of good will erased.

"You shouldn't have come, Mr. Wickham. Somebody could have seen you. What good is a spy who comes overtly to discuss with his foreign employer? Have you the least idea what would happen to you if your old buddies of the militia would learn what you have done?"

Yes, Wickham had a very good idea. But he had thought that a little bonus could come his way. With the invasion going so well and so...

"Greedy once more, Mr. Wickham?" said d'Arcy with a smile in the eyes.

"No, of course not, I came to offer further service. Perhaps there are things I could do for you..."

D'Arcy looked at him a few very long seconds and Wickham was sure he didn't believe a word of what he just said.

"As a matter of fact, there is, Mr. Wickham. I need you to stage a little rescue. There are a few generals who are urgently needed in London at the side of the Crown Prince. I would like you to free my cousin Richard Fitzwilliam and push him in the right direction... I'm sure he will be able to do what I want even without you whispering him the plan in the ear..."

"I could do it... Alone..."

D'Arcy looked at him and Wickham hated the smile he shot at him.

"I'm sure you could, Mr. Wickham. But I need an honest officer at the center of this operation. You're not renowned for your honesty Mr. Wickham. I fear you could not play this role with enough believability. I've even heard ugly rumors saying that you tried and elope with a cousin of mine... Georgiana's her name. You know her, I believe..."

Wickham knew it would be suicide to try and lie. He nodded.

"You were friends when you were young, weren't you? It's perhaps normal that such a friendship can, sometimes, be confused with a crush..." D'arcy's eyes darkened. "Can we go out from here that you came over this youthful confusion?"

"Without a doubt, Sir... Without a doubt..."

D'Arcy stopped looking at him and took a purse out of one of the trunks. He tossed it at him.

"You'll need money to get to Town. And you'll need horses. You remember the Calloway Farm? Where you and a few of your buddies..."

"I remember" cut Wickham wondering what this man did not know.

"You'll find seven horses there. Army horses with erased markings. Horses you were about to sell on the black market... As usual..."

"But they will wonder..."

"They will, Mr. Wickham. And let's hope that they'll not be too suspicious. But let's face the truth Mr. Wickham: you have a reputation. A bad reputation! We have no choice but to play on that reputation. Nobody will believe you if you try and play the honest militia officer. But everybody will believe you if you show yourself as you are. A con artist and a thief who, even if dishonest, has, within himself a core of healthy patriotism. That this patriotism pushes you to help an old friend to get out of his goal in order to yourself dodge the prison camp would be in character with said reputation... Wouldn't you agree?"

"I would" said Wickham.

"Good" said d'Arcy. "Your know _the Rat and the Bat, _I was said?"

"I do. Quite well" answered Wickham with even more tremor in his voice.

"Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam has been put in one of the rooms who have a door to the backyard. I have two very tired soldiers guarding it. It should be possible to surprise them. Please do not injure them. You should have the opportunity to strike them without killing them."

"I'll do my best..."

"That's all I can ask, Mr. Wickham" said d'Arcy with a smile. "Be sure, yet, to know that those who work with me whose best is not good enough tend to disappear from the pay roll."

Wickham forced himself to remain calm and not to swallow. How was it that this man could scare his wits out of him _with a smile_?

"I'll keep it in mind..."

D'arcy smiled at him.

"And now, I fear I'll have to make you pay for the recklessness you showed by coming here without being summoned." His smile broadened. "You wouldn't want that one of your fellow officers became suspicious of the reason you were within this tent for so long, would you..."

"Of course not..."

"Then, we fully agree... Please let your howls be convincing. It will help to shorten the round."

He turned towards the back f the room.

"Kennedy, wen need your expertise, here. Please let's help our friend here to save his image..."

A black haired and smiling man came in.

"T'will be ma pleasure, sir..."

The first kick took Wickham by surprise. He was still wondering what hit him when two punches in the face made him fall over.

And d'Arcy's face was there just in the background, looking disinterested.

He howled as asked. It was easy.

* * *

Wickham looked at his face still marked with blue and brown areas.

How he hated d'Arcy. But he hated him much less than he feared him.

Next time he would wait to be summoned. That lesson was not to be learned again.

And it had been useful. Some officers had been there when he was brought to d'Arcy and they saw him coming out between two French soldiers with a face that showed that someone has had some disagreements with him...

Even Richard Fitzwilliam had looked at him with different eyes when he had freed him.

A shudder near the door tore him out of his dreams and he did as everybody and looked towards the door.

The massive bulk of George, Prince of Wales, was soon coming towards him and the stage were the most of the ceremonies would take place.

Soon Richard Fitzwilliam was at his side and they both followed the lead of a manservant who just appeared before them.

"Show time" said Wickham. "Try to smile, you're the hero of Brighton." He smiled his most charming smile. "We are the heroes of Brighton!"

"I cannot fathom that you're so happy about it... We lost without fighting a shot. We were overwhelmed. No reason to be proud of what we did. We should have been shot..."

"Generals first" said Wickham. "Responsibility falls down, isn't it? Than let's them be shot first who were responsible for our extraordinary performance. Must I remind you, lieutenant general that this very evening you were babysitting Anneley?"

"Don't remind me of that wretched night..."

Wickham smiled at him and proceeded toward the stage where the Crown Prince was half pulled, half pushed up the stairs.

They both followed and were placed in hierarchical order behind everyone else.

Wickham smothered his contempt for all those pitiful people who soon would have no choice but to run, first to run out of Town and soon to run out of England.

Were would they go?

Scotland?

He wouldn't. Scotland would fall within weeks. He was sure of it.

Ireland?

Safer than Scotland. But not sure enough. He had seen the Irish guards around d'Arcy. They would push until he went to Ireland to free their people from England's yoke. And the troops in Ireland would stand no chance against the French.

Canada ?

With the insurgents ready to grasp what the French would not take for themselves?

No! India was the only choice. A far distance away and enough good troops to stand against a French invasion.

He wondered how long it would take all those mighty counselors to arrive at this same conclusion?

A month? A year?

He wouldn't bet a shilling on them finding out quickly.

"Ladies and gentlemen..." The fat prince was, lastly, arrived at the edge of the stage.

"We are here this afternoon to honor two astounding soldiers who, at the risk of their lives, were able to free and convey to London three of our best Generals. Thanks to these brave men what could have been a striking defeat was turned into the start of a new military campaign. With our best military counselors back, we will soon be able to strike back..."

_With what troops,_ wondered Richard Fitzwilliam. _With the two Royal Regiments? They'll be squashed like flies_...

"...And therefore, in the name of King George the Third..."

* * *

Now came the interesting parts for Wickham. He already knew the overall gifts.

A rank, decorations and an estate...

He needed only the details.

The Prince's words shook him to the roots.

In Kent! His Estate was in Kent!

_Blast you_, thought he _You miser of a Prince! Giving us estates in French occupied land. Go to hell and burn_!

Lieutenant General Fitzwilliam was very proud of his Prince. Giving them Estates in French occupied lands could only be seen as a healthy motivation to get these Lands back soon.

He knew it would not be easy but it was the right signal to spread.

The frown on Wickham's row was even more satisfying.

* * *

**Next chapter: Hunsford arrival**


	21. Hunsford Reunion

Mr. Bennet arrives in Hunsford.

* * *

**Chapter 21: Hunsford reunion**

* * *

**London, Saturday the eighth**

* * *

"Mr. Bennet?" William Collins asked open mouthed and surprise stricken while opening the door to the parsonage.

He had seen a large troop of cavalry coming up the road and he had hushed his wife and their guests away to their rooms.

In such dreadful times, one never knew.

"In flesh and blood and hurting rump, Mr. Collins." answered his cousin. "Sorry for the disappointment but if you were awaiting my ghost with good news, it will be for another time, hopefully in a far away future."

William Collins stood back and invited his cousin to walk in.

"Who are these gentlemen?" asked he while looking at the cavalrymen who still stood in front of his house.

"My escort" answered Mr. Bennet. "One of your patroness' guests has sent for me and has felt free to provide an escort for the dangerous journey... I do believe they would like to stay in the general vicinity. Could you please see with them how they could store horses and equipment?"

Mr. Collins' face lost all trace of color.

"Must I?"

Mr Bennet looked at him with a knowing smile.

"I'm quite sure they won't take 'no' for an answer, Mr. Collins. But I'm also quite sure they would be perfectly happy with your barn, stable and shed. They prefer being outside the main house. They said it's a matter of security."

His cousin gulped loudly and took a deep breath while nodding nervously his head.

"Then, I'll better hurry. They won't like it if I make them lose more time..."

He slipped out of the parsonage and soon closed the door behind him.

* * *

As soon as Mr. Collins was outside, Mr. Bennet went to the stairs and called out loud: "Where's my womenfolk? Where are they hiding?"

He knew that they would be listening through slits and ajar doors...

"Papa?" said a well known voice. "Is that you?"

He answered with a smile in the voice.

"If you are Jane Bennet, as I suspect, than you're right in your supposition..."

Ten seconds later he was catching his flying daughter in his arms and suffocating under her heartfelt hugs.

"Dear, dear" said he between kisses. "Could there be a slight possibility that you were missing me..."

"Of course we were missing you," said Mary joining them and taking the place of her sister in the arms of their father. "We could have died if Jane's d'Arcy hadn't saved us all..."

"He is not _my_ d'Arcy" countered Jane.

"Of course he is," interrupted Mary. "Papa, he is courting her like mad..."

"He's not..."

"Yes, he is!"

"He did not court me! We spoke!"

"He carried you all the way to..."

"It's none of your bus..."

Mr. Bennet raised both hands.

"Girls, please! I'm very grateful for this reunion but your squabbling was not a part of what I missed most about you! Please, do me the favor of giving me a few minutes peace before you go on bickering..."

They stopped immediately and he was quite satisfied with the opportunity to hug them in silence.

"I had the hope to find my third missing daughter at this address. Could it be that some of the information I got was false?"

"She's at in town with Lady Anne," answered Mary. "She couldn't stand my _frocks_, so they went shopping for a new wardrobe. Lydia does always criticize my dresses, papa. She says they are ugly..."

"Perhaps not ugly but rather plain, dear. I'm sure you would be _blossoming_ in better outfits than those you choose usually. I'm sure you would be as beautiful as your sisters if you would choose to give your appearance a few thoughts..."

"Vanity is a sin, papa!"

"Lying is a worst one, dear, and I truly believe that showing you as plain as possible and hiding all your beauty behind plain dresses is a greater sin than vanity..."

He took hold of his daughter's hand and smiled at her.

"And now that your sister is going to marry this Darcy guy, I'm sure you..."

"I'm not marrying him!" interrupted Jane. "I don't know who slandered me, it's all false..."

Mr. Bennet, not really accustomed to such outbursts from his eldest, looked at her, a smile on his lips and mischief in his eyes.

"Of course you're not, dear. It's Lizzie who's going to marry Mr. Darcy!"

Surprise took hold of Jane. Lizzie? With Darcy? What wonderful news! So he had found the strength to repeat his proposal? That shew courage and real love! She was...

Her father's smile vanished.

"God, Jane, don't tell me you were hoping to marry Mr. Darcy?"

The last sentence uttered by her father finally stroke home.

Darcy and her?

"Of course not, papa..."

He didn't let her speak to the end of her sentence.

"It would be terrible if the happiness of one of my daughters was the reason for the sadness of the other..."

Mary burst out a laugh.

"She doesn't mean the Derby Darcy, papa! She means the other one! The French d'Arcy! The one who saved our life..."

Jane tried to shut her sister up with a dark ugly glance, but Mary was not willing to let go.

"He lives at Rosings Manor and at the second Jane walks out of the parsonage he is at her side..."

"That's not true, papa..."

Mr Bennet decided that his little teasing had to come to an end.

He went to Jane and hugged her.

"Don't fret, dear," whispered he. "I'm ready to hear you out the moment you choose to."

He looked at Mary.

"For the moment, please do not go on as you were. I'm willing to listen to everyone but I want it to be in good order and at a time where I have had the possibility to have a few minutes rest..."

These words were the line Charlotte Collins needed to come out of her concealment.

Mr. Collins saw her looking at him from the top of the stairs.

He kissed Jane a last time and stepped back before bowing.

"Mrs. Collins, sorry for coming without being invited. I hope I do not intrude?"

"Of course not, Mr. Bennet. After having been your guest for so many years, I'm quite happy to be able, at last, to greet you as my guest in my humble abode."

She curtsied and they exchanged smiles.

He could see that Charlotte had that inner glowing featuring a woman in her own environment. Marriage, even to a fool, was surely becoming her.

"I could not but overhear some of your comments... You spoke about Lizzie and Mr. Darcy? Do we really speak of the same Mr. Darcy who spoke so harshly about Lizzie?"

Mr. Bennet nodded.

"We do, dear Charlotte, we do! I don't know what really happened but it seems that Mr. Darcy after a first failed attempt to secure her hand is about to give my daughter another chance to rebuke him. He wrote me, not really to ask for my permission but to let me know that he was willing to give it another try."

Charlotte could only laugh.

"I doubt he would have asked you if he had had any doubt about the answer... I do believe he must be quite sure of his chances to get a favorable answer..."

"So do I, dear Charlotte and I'm quite impatient to learn the details of my daughter's shift in opinion."

He risked a glance at his eldest daughter and smiled.

"But I do believe there are a few problems I have to solve before having the opportunity to speak with Elizabeth."

"I would not speak of problems Mr. Bennet. Some decisions are harder to take as others even if you know quite well that you have, all things considered, no choice..."

Jane made a face. She would have to speak with her father and soon.

Before everybody else gave him her opinion.

* * *

Lydia was back and had been delighted to see their father.

All had the opportunity to speak about everything but --_at Mr. Bennet's express requirement_-- Jane's '_affair_' with the French invader.

Finally, after lunch, Mr. Bennet took the opportunity to go with his eldest daughter for a walk out of the parsonage.

"Well, dear, I know you were never as lively as Lizzie, Lydia or Kittie but now you seem to me more than sedated. Wouldn't it be better to let me know what's bothering you?"

She looked at her father, tried a shy little smile and took a deep breath.

"I don't know, papa! I really don't know! He has taken a real place in my life and I'm unable t decide if I like or hate the prospect."

He smothered a smile. She would not understand why he found it so amusing. He had not asked about '_him_' but it was '_him_' she spoke of. More than revealing...

She shook her head.

"Of course he's having an impact on me. If I close my eyes, he's there and the more I try to repel his image, the more I'm thinking of him. And the result is evident, I'm unable_ not _to think about him!"

He let his arm pull her towards him and, as in far away times, when she was younger and not at all aware of the role she would have to play for the family, her head found his shoulder.

"Dear, how could it be different? You are a but a child! Your mother and I tried our best to prepare you and your sisters to just such situations but it is plain that we failed..."

He took his daughter's head with both his hands and looked her in the eyes.

"I know that I've not been the best of fathers..."

With a finger on her lips, he smashed her chance to protest.

"Don't say a word in my defense. You know it's true and it is especially true for you..."

She tried, once more, to protest but he prevented her.

"Don't take me wrong. I never did anything to harm you or your sisters. But neither did I what I should have done to give you and them a chance to find a suitable husband. I was too lazy or too deluded to notice that I was destroying your future happiness. I preferred my little studies and pleasures and so I did not save enough money for you to become a suitable party..."

He breathed out.

"And, I must confess it, that your character was, for me, more of an inducement not to take my share of the burden the entail put on our all heads. You were so willing to accept the role of the sacrificial lamb, to offer yourself up in order to give your sisters so much more freedom."

He smiled at her. She knew he was saying the truth. She knew that she had accepted, a long time ago, the role of the daughter who would have to sacrifice herself in order to save the rest of the family.

"And it seems God is not going to punish me for being an egoistic old hedonist. It seems that Lizzie has taken up the burden I dropped so long ago. She's the one who will save our family and with her marriage she frees you also from that same charge."

He smiled at his daughter who looked at him with sad eyes.

"You're free, Jane! You're, for the first time in your life, free. Free to choose the man you prefer, free to forget us... And if you are not convinced yet, I'm going to force you to be free. Think of yourself, dear, think of what you desire and no longer take into account what could have reverse effects on me, your mother or your sisters..."

He could not help but let a teasing smile appear on his lips.

"And do not hesitate to ask for advice. I really do have a great experience in egoistic and self centered behavior."

That got him a smile and he could not help but hug his daughter and let her put her head against his chest. It was the first time in years and he felt as if, deep within him, something healed.

"I give you the right to do as you please, Jane. The right to be happy and the right to forget about us. And, even if it's sure that there will be bickering, cries and howls, in the end, they will all support your choice!"

He could not help but kiss her on that wonderful hair of hers. She had it the first day he could hold her in his arms. And he remembered that extraordinary fragrance she had as a tiny little baby. Somewhere under the rose and lilac water she used as a perfume he could still smell it.

Twenty two years had passed but still she was the same, still she was that perfect little creature whose blue eyes were so full of love and wisdom that he could forget old grudges and recent failures.

She was so wonderful, so perfect... How could so imperfect a couple give life to such a marvel?

For the first time in months he had been able to look at his relationship with his wife with detachment. And he was, finally, able to forgive her...

And the second he found in himself the strength to forgive, he knew that there was nothing to forgive.

That the fault was all his!

His wife was no more responsible than him for what they had done. She was even _less_ responsible than him. He could have fled but his so called honor forced him to marry her.

But he married her with a loathsome hatred in his heart and he had made her the scape goat for all that went bad in his life.

Until she gifted him with the most marvelous creature in the world.

The next months were the happiest months of his life and now he realized that he had all but forgotten them!

He could not believe that he had it within himself to be such a selfish person!

Tears run down his cheeks wetting her hair...

She looked up and was surprised to see her father crying.

Never had she seen him cry.

Never had she seen a grown man cry...

Grown men don't cry!

They looked at each other for a long moment.

"You gave me happiness and I let you down, dear. Always you have looked up at me with trust in your eyes, and I have let you down, not once but every time... Every time..."

He went on for minutes and she said nothing to deny what he was saying.

She believed in his guilt but she knew that he had never let her down. He was there for her and for the rest of the family. In his strange and ironical ways but he never was indifferent. Even behind his sarcasms and teasing they could feel his love and his thoughtfulness.

And so she had taken the decisions that needed to be taken.

Her family was in need! Some one would have to save her family.

Very early she had known that her mother couldn't and her father wouldn't.

What else could she have done? Stay away and pray?

No she had taken her responsibilities and she had never regretted following that particular road.

Her father came out of his sorrow.

"Bingley would have been a perfect mate for you. You could have helped him as you have always helped everybody else. This d'Arcy, for all I can judge, would, on the other hand, probably be much better for you than Charles. He could be one of those few who could be able to help _you_, dear. And, if I have grasped all the allusions of your sisters and Maria, he already saved your life. A good beginning for a relationship if you do not confuse your feelings for him. Letting gratitude blur your understanding would be dangerous..."

She shook her head.

"He never let it come up," said she. "He immediately shew me that he was... that he had feelings towards me. He never played the cord of gratitude. Not with our rescue and not with Mr. Collins or Lydia's release. He shocked me into such a defensive state that I was unable to let gratitude overpower my feelings. I'm yet unable to accept what I fear I feel for him, but, what ever it is, I'm sure it was not triggered by gratitude."

Edward Bennet smiled at her. His Jane had never lied to anybody --_not in any believable manner_-- and he was very happy that she didn't try to hide the truth from herself.

"How are your feelings toward Mr. Bingley, dear?"

Jane could not help but pout.

"I don't know anymore. When I try to get rid of d'Arcy's image, it's him I summon and he is the only one who stands a chance to resist to _His_ overwhelming presence. But it's not his image who comes spontaneously to my mind. It's d'Arcy's!"

Mr. Bennet reminded himself of the conversation he have had with Mrs. Charlotte Collins. She, no doubt on that point, was a restless supporter of a relationship between Jane and this Frenchman. Her arguments were sound but could, probably, not be understood by his eldest.

"Would you be so reluctant if he would be anything else but the leader of the invading army?"

She looked at him and forced herself to look at her father's question with honesty.

What would have happened if he had '_only_' been Lady Catherine's guest? What if he had not, during this awful dinner, bantered about his army, his victory, his deportation policy?

What would she have done the day after his rescue if she had only encountered him as the enthusiastic suitor he was?

She would have been pleased...

She would have been flattered!

She would have welcomed his courting with a real pleasure.

Because, she couldn't deny it anymore, he was a dashing man with undeniable features which put him apart from everybody else she knew.

Even Lizzie's Darcy, tall and handsome and haughty Darcy, had not been as striking in his behavior as he. And he certainly had not had _that_ effect on her.

But his speech that awful evening, what looked to her like his boasting, had changed everything.

If he had played the charming host he could have won her over...

The truth hit her like a wall.

He had done it on purpose.

To ascertain that she knew everything about him, that there could never be any bad surprise that could destroy their mutual trust and their relations.

He had preferred risking her refusal rather than building a relation on false...

_There's no relation_!

She saw surprise in her father's eyes. Her reaction must have been stronger than she thought.

"I cannot speak of a relationship between us, papa. He looks after me, comes to see me and speaks to me. He gave me no false pretense about his feelings. We did know each other for less than five minutes he was already displaying his feelings for me in a rather unseemly manner..."

A smile blossomed on her face.

"I cannot deny I liked it, then. Here was a man who had just saved my life in a most effective manner and this same man was courting me with admiring eyes and a passion I never ever have encountered before. Yes, I liked it then and each time he came toward me to..." She could no longer deny the truth of the word... "Court me, I was quite satisfied to be the object of his courting..."

Edward Bennet came nearer and took, once more, his marvelous little girl in his arms.

"Nothing and nobody will force a choice on you, dear. Please do not think about us or England or the Crown when the moment of your choice comes upon you. Think only of you and of what you need. What you feel you need!"

He kissed her and bend back to be able to look in her eyes.

"And do not forget that our silly British society sees women as perfectly dumb tools. If you choose to marry d'Arcy, I will be the first to announce to the whole world that _I_ pushed you into his arms!"

Once more he smiled at her and kissed her.

"And I'm sure, they would find my reckless move a most intelligent one... You could make me the most admired man of whole Great Britain, dear. For the first time in all my life, I could be seen as having done something useful for my family. My daughters could, at last, be proud of me!"

That got him a hug and a kiss.

And he knew it had been worth it.

* * *

**Next chapter: Hunsford Parrish**

Sunday


	22. Hunsford Parrish

Where Mr. Bennet meets Lady Catherine...  
**Fifth day.**

* * *

**Chapter 22: Hunsford Parrish**

* * *

**Kent, Hunsford Sunday**

* * *

The little Parrish church was full as never before. The Bennets would have been forced to stand if Lady Catherine, seeing Mr. Bennet standing in front of what he called his womenfolk, had not insisted to invite them into the family boxes at the right and the left of the altar.

Finally, in a rare gesture of sensitive behavior she had opened her "largess" to a few other prominent inhabitants of the Parrish permitting more people to sit in the little church.

Even Charlotte was invited and so was, for the first time since her arrival at Rosings, sitting at the side of the renowned Patroness of her husband.

The approving rumor was like sunshine for the old Lady who visibly basked in her throne like armchair.

Mr. Bennet, sitting at her right, facing a Mrs. Jenkinson, her daughter's lady maid, could not help but smile.

What a preposterous old fart! And if half what Lizzie said about her was true, which it probably was, she was also a mean, ugly and spiteful piece of work.

Reverend Collins' sermon was short, precise and up to the point of the situation of military occupied Kent.

He had based it on Christ's more tolerant speeches and spoke of tolerance, patience and love for its fellow man. It was quite interesting and if the reverend would have had even the least talent for rhetorics, it would have been a perfect illustration of the situation.

The most appreciated part was probably its shortness and less than an hour after the beginning of the service, every one was on the outside of the church discussing the content of the sermon or, more probably, the new situation in a French occupied Kent.

His younger daughters being occupied elsewhere, Lydia with a bunch a young lads and Mary with the vicar of the Parrish, he was alone with Jane when Lady Catherine came floating towards him.

He made his most impeccable bow and forced his face to show his most believable mask of pure pleasure.

"Lady Catherine, I find no words to express my gratitude for your kind behavior. In the name of the Bennet family, let me express my heartfelt thanks for such a noble gesture. It shows that one must travel in the Country to still find real expressions of aristocratic Hauteur..."

Lady Catherine graced him with a smile and a wink of her fan.

"We old families have duties more than privileges" said she with a satisfied voice. "It is sometimes difficult to bear but that's why we are at the top of the society, we know how to endure."

She glanced at the crowd filling the yard, the road and part of the graveyard.

"And to see all those forlorn people flocking around _Us_, is a clear sign that they know how important it is to have a Lord --_in this case a Lady_-- who still understands the real difference between being at the top and laboring at the bottom..."

"And seeing you, my dear Lady, nobody can have the least doubt of who is at top and who is at the bottom of our society! Nothing like clear messages to get rid of those awful little germs of dissent."

The smile on Lady Catherine's face took huge proportions.

"Indeed? You do feel so?"

"Of course," said he while looking at his eldest who shot him a reproachful glance. "I have hammered this rule in every one of my daughters. There's nothing in the face of the world of greater importance than to have a respectful attitude towards those who rule us. Being part of the ruling class is one of the most momentous fate a human being can have to endure..."

Jane eyes shot him a whole broadside of dirty looks.

"Ohhh..." said lady Catherine. "That explains a lot! I fear your daughters have misinterpreted the gist of the message you tried to convey."

Mr. Bennet looked at Lady Catherine with what he hoped was a subtle mix of curiosity and worry.

"How so, my Lady?"

She looked at him and Jane and made a swift gesture with her hand.

"Do not worry, dear Mr. Bennet. _We_, thank God, avoided _that _catastrophe. Now, it seems that it could even happen that the misunderstanding of said teachings could have a propitious outcome."

She bent toward Mr. Bennet and put her fan between them and Jane.

"Some people say," whispered she, "that your eldest daughter had quite bewitched this great nephew of mine who found himself at the head of the French troops. It _could _be that having a well born and good bred English Lady at his side could be quite an interesting situation..."

Mr. Bennet looked at her with a perfectly shocked face. Open mouth and agape eyes and all...

"A great nephew of yours is a traitor? How..."

"No, no, no..." cut she in his remark. "Not in the common sense. He is French, no doubt about that part. So he can not qualify as a traitor. Perhaps to his Class --he is the son of a Comte, real millennium old French Aristocracy-- since he serves the Corsican Monster, but not to England which failed to hold him twenty five years ago when he fled his father."

She let a heavy breath out and raised herself at her ramrod normal heights.

Mr. Bennet saw the overture and could not help but storm it.

"As I said, real Aristocracy never dies. He survived the storm of French Revolution and now, here he is, mighty, powerful and --_God helps us_-- victorious! Good blood never lies!"

Of course Lady Catherine included herself in what she thought was a compliment.

"You're a true, if low-born, gentleman, Sir!" said she accompanying what _she_ thought a compliment with a hint of a smile and a slight movement of her head. "Meeting your daughters without knowing you, gave me, I must confess, a false opinion of you and your wife. The teachings were sound but the meaning was lost. It is probably the absence of a governess which brought your daughters to fail to grasp their subtleties."

She made a movement with her head, another smile which marked in how high an esteem she hold him.

"It was a pleasure, Mr. Bennet. I hope you will allow me to invite you at Rosings?"

"Nothing could bring me greater pleasure than to visit such an enlightened Aristocrat in her famed abode!"

Another smile and she floated away on the same cloud of arrogant superiority she always used.

The moment she was out of hearing range, Jane was upon her father.

"Papa, that was not very gentleman like! You mocked her!"

He looked at his daughter;

"Indeed I did! And, I must confess, I did it with great pleasure. I even had results, dear! She no longer sees my daughters as twisted creatures and heir huntresses but as misguided daughters who failed to understand the sage teachings of their poor father... Quite a victory, don't you think?"

She shot him a dark glance.

"Nothing twisted can be called a victory, papa. You mocked her and you played a role. One could even recognized cousin Collins' mannerisms from time to time..."

"She didn't, dear, and that's the most important thing of all. She believes herself so intelligent! It will be my pleasure to mock her as often as possible! My, I'm even going to enjoin this stay for other reasons than having you at my side!"

"It is never acceptable to mock poor people, papa. You do not know her enough to decide out of nothing that she has no qualities. Under her outer disapproval of everything and every body, she is perhaps a very kind and agreeable person..."

"No, she is not, dear. I know that kind of Aristocrats. Not worth the bullet to shot them..."

"Papa!"

"No papa-ing, dear! In these matters I have the experience and I know perfectly well what I'm saying. And it being so, I would like you to show more discernment in the causes you choose to battle for. And Lady Catherine de Bourgh is not worth even your contempt. Just ignore her and let those around you who have been gifted to deal with them in a proper manner, do their job..."

A new smile came on his face.

"Here comes another one" said he as Mr. Collins made his way towards them.

"Papa," whispered Jane, "please do not mock Mr. Collins. He is family..."

"The more the reason, dear! With family everything is allowed. You know it, nothing never stopped me from teasing your mother..."

Jane shot him a disapproving look.

"You shouldn't even be doing it to mama, father! It is not right! Teasing her in such a manner is not a very kind way to deal with a wife, papa! You don't do it with us..."

Mr. Bennet looked at his daughter and was rather surprised. Never had his Jane spoken so harshly before. Especially not with him.

"Dear, it's the way I am... You've never complained before..."

"Because you're my father, it would have been unseemly to criticize you..."

"And it is no more?" asked he, hiding a smile which was crawling on his lips. "What has changed?"

His question took her by surprise.

Indeed what has changed? Why was his teasing of William Collins so more unbearable than all his years of teasing her mother?

She soon knew that it was not!

It was his teasing she had difficulties to accept now.

Was it not a lack of respect for people she loved or respected?

"I'm troubled, papa. That your teasing could be misinterpreted with contempt... I know it is not, but some people could think that you mean disrespect to those you tease. I wouldn't like it. I wouldn't like it at all..."

Mr Bennet took her hand into his own and squeezed it lightly.

"Do not trouble you, dear! As I said, it is the way I like to deal with fools and people toward which I have forgotten how to show that I love them... Your mother and I..." He hesitated. "We glided apart. We lost contact and we were never able to find back to each other. With my teasing, I just show that she's still somebody I care for..."

Jane looked at her father and her eyes were half reproaching, half understanding.

"We've guessed, papa. But wouldn't it be better to try and reach for her? I know mama does not seem the most clever of women, but she's in no way a fool. I do believe she's very unhappy about what was lost between you. And her theatrics with her nerves are in great part an attempt to keep your attention..."

She looked at him and there was sorrow in her eyes.

"Soon, my sisters and I we will leave Longbourn, papa. Lizzie is probably already under the roof of another man and I doubt very much that Lydia and Kittie will stay unmarried for many years to come. For Mary, I don't know. She seems not to look in that particular direction. But with Mr. Darcy as a member of our extended family, I doubt she will be without suitor for long..."

Mr. Bennet could only wonder what he had done to merit such children. God knew that he had done more to insure His wraith than his Blessing.

"I'll do what I can, dear. I promise. As soon as we are reunited, I'll see that your mother and I..." He had to search his words. "We speak... Like in old days. Not as we were doing it these last years."

He patted her hand.

"I promise..."

Jane could only nod since her cousin, reverend Collins was finally approaching.

"It's when the House of God is full of worshipers that the man of the cloth is reminded of the reason he has chosen his trade!" said he with a genuine smile of happiness. "To see all these sinners flocking toward my little church is, in truth, a gift of our Divine Father..."

Mr. Bennet opened his mouth to give the awaited answer when his daughter fingers squeezed his hands.

He took the hint.

"Indeed, cousin, indeed. A full House of God is a preacher's blessing. You can be proud of what you achieved..."

William Collins' smile broadened even more.

"It is only God's will, cousin. Believing that I had a role to play in this gathering's success would be a sin. It's only God's will. Only God's will..."

With a last smile, he bowed and went toward some parishioners who were, visibly, waiting in the hope he would pass nearby.

As soon as he had turned away, Mr. Bennet took his hurting fingers into his other hand and tried to massage the hurt away.

"I would have been polite, dear. I swear it..."

"You would have teased him," scolded Jane. "I could feel that you were on the brink of hinting that the only reason for today's audience was that he is the last priest at hundred miles around!"

"Never would I..."

She shot him a doubtful look.

"At least not in so much words," whispered Mr. Bennet.

He put his arm around his daughter hips and pulled her along with him.

"Since you seem to have acquired the gift to read thoughts, dear, I do believe that it will soon be essential, for my own survival, that we find you somebody else to pester with this new gift of yours."

He winked at her.

"How about this Frenchman of yours? If I remember well, being able to divine one's lover's thoughts is a very satisfying way to ascertain one's feelings..."

He was very content to see her blush crimson.

"Papa! Please do not..."

"Yes, yes, I do," said he, insisting. "And do not forget that that skill of yours would allow you to spy on him! Which would change your not existing relationship in an act of patriotism, don't you agree?"

She shook her head.

"Can you never be serious, papa?"

"But I'm serious, dear! Dead serious! This whole invasion stuff could radically change if you..."

* * *

**Next chapter: Pemberley gets Post**


	23. Pemberley Post

Mr. Bennet's letter is finally arriving at Pemberley.

* * *

**Chapter 23: Pemberley Post**

* * *

**Derbyshire, Pemberley, Sunday noon.**

* * *

"Lizzie, Lizzie, there's post from Longbourn..."

Mrs. Gardiner was quite out of breath and Elizabeth couldn't help but smile at her behavior. Luckily for them Lydia was not there to witness such an unwomanly behavior or all scolding in the future would have been for naught.

"Why haven't you opened it?"

"It's for you and Mr. Darcy," said Mrs. Gardiner. "See..."

Elizabeth took the letter and looked at the address.

_ For Miss Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy_...

"Indeed, but it is papa's handwriting... I'll open it..."

She turned it to crush the seal when she saw a sentence written on the backside.

"How strange, he wrote something on the outside..."

She went to the window and squeezed her eyes to decipher what her father --_it was his handwriting also on the outside_-- has written as a last recourse. She read it first silently than she voiced it for her aunt.

_ Your sisters are all three safe in Rosings. I'll go and get them. I'll be safe. I've an escort. Love_...

They couldn't help but cheer and gambol at these good news. A heavy weight had just been lifted from their shoulders and they were aware that such an outcome was very unexpected.

Lizzie looked at her aunt.

"Why are Jane and Mary at Rosing? They should be with Kittie and mama en route for Pemberley! What could have happened?"

She finally broke the seal and opened the letter.

She read the first sentences and closed it again.

"I believe we should summon Fitzwilliam, Georgiana and uncle Gardiner. They will want to know what it says."

* * *

A quarter of an hour later they were all sitting around Lizzie in the Morning Parlor.

_Dear Lizzie, dear Mr. Darcy..._

_Please read this letter to the rest of our family. I'm sure they are very impatient to get news of their nieces and children and sister._

_Let's begin with some important national news. London has not fallen into the hands of the French. Yet! The Invader is, for the time being completing his invasion of Southern England and perhaps, but we have no news, Cornwall. Hertfortshire is, at the time I write this letter, free of any troops. Be they friendly or not..._

_Please convey my greetings to your uncle and aunt and reassure them that their children are aboard a carriage _en route_ to the north with their aunt and their cousin Kittie. If everything goes well, they should arrive next Sunday or at least on the Morn of Monday. It could be that, with the events, the roads are less easy to travel, so don't be too frightened when they are not under Mr. Darcy's kind hospitality this very Sunday. _

_As already hinted you'll be relieved to learn that the Bennet invasion of Pemberley will count a second and a third wave. A second with your mother and Kittie and a third with myself and the rest of your sisters. I'd have liked pretending that's it's a wise move on my part to give poor Mr. Darcy a respite and the possibility to accustom himself to a wave of shrieking Bennets well decided to squash all trace of silence ten miles around, but, to my shame, it is not the case._

_Once more, dear Lizzie, you'll get the proof that your old man is very able to take the wrongest decisions at the worst of moments. It's a gift, it seems, and these last weeks I used it much more than usually._

_Let me give you the whole of the story._

_After your departure to the North, I got restless and your words became more and more acute in my memories. Lydia was sure to do something stupid and I couldn't let it just rest. So I decided to send my two most serious daughters to go and get her sister out of Brighton. They were, I must precise duly chaperoned by Mrs. Tweed and old Raphy who accepted, one last time, to drive the coach. _

_Be sure to imagine the shouting contest your mother and Kittie organized the moment they knew I was sending Jane and Mary to Brighton. They made my life a living Hell but, for once, I refused to surrender. And so Jane and Mary and escort went out to get their stray sister. With God's help it is even possible that, some day, your mother and Kittie will be able to forgive me._

_I must confess that it was my pleasure to give to my two most amenable daughters, once in their life a gift they would never had asked for even if they, probably, longed to see the sea as much as those of my daughters who are always so prompt and loud to let me know their desires._

_I was also hoping that Jane who never really got over Mr. Bingley would find in this journey enough novelty to begin to come out of her depression. My confidence in them was such that I was sure that they would not let the thrill of the sea or the waves of some red coats waver their determination to bring Lydia back home._

_So it happened that I have sent out into danger two more of my beloved daughters. I hope that they were not too quick in their journey and that they stayed more than a day in my brother's London House. If they were too serious it could be that they had already quited Hunsford when the news of the invasion got there. I pray that, for once, Jane was able to induce a little bout of shopping in her sister. I know she was longing for a new book of sermons written by one of those despicable and annoying old farts she loves to read, perhaps she took the time to visit her favorite book shops..._

_I hope that they are still in Hunsford and perhaps that Lydia, being, for once, clever and not silly had taken the proximity of Hunsford and Charlotte as a hint to went there in hope of a safe haven. My real fear is that she decided to go to Town where she always loves to be. With the invasion London is sure to be, at one time or another, a primary target and battle field. I pray none of my daughter will be there when the fighting begins._

_But I do hope that she has remembered that all the people she knows in Town are at this time either in Derbyshire or at Longbourn and that she would find an empty house. But you know Lydia, she could have decided that she was by herself quite enough to fill such a little Town House. _

_I can exclude nothing and that's why, on my way to Kent I'll pass through Cheapside to look with my brother's staff if one of my daughters has not decided, while awaiting the fall of the City, to live the life of a Londoner._

_That should close the chapter of family news. _

_Let's come around to Mr. Darcy's request --it was a request, wasn't it?-- and his wish to marry you. If you too are wishing to marry him, be reassured that you'll be given my blessing. But please do not accept only out of necessity or to secure everything this old fool of a father has these last twenty five years omitted to do. War sometimes forces decisions which could be, later, regretted. I know that you could not be happy with a man you would not look up to and who would not earn your true esteem. So, please don't be too hasty in taking a decision. Out of laziness and satisfaction about an easily solved problem I'll do nothing to split you up. So don't lie to yourself and be perfectly honest about you feelings._

_Once more I have the possibility to escape my responsibilities and to let somebody else take a difficult decision for me. This time it's your turn, dear brother Gardiner, to be at the front. Please, since you are on site and since you have the support of your wife, look into this demand and make sure that my Lizzie does not marry Mr. Darcy out of duty and against her best interest. _

_If you should discover that those two love each other and are well matched, please, go on, make them marry! Do not lose more time than necessary. These times are difficult and in those time being at the side of a loved one is often more important to survival than a good hiding place. Do have the courage of new love and marry! Without me and your sisters if necessary. I know Jane will be disappointed not to be at your side for the wedding but since what you really wanted was to be wedded together I do hope you will both get over that light disappointment. So, do not, I write it again, do not wait for me. I'm not the best of fathers but I won't do as if nothing had happened. I'll join you as soon as I have a real idea of what has happened to all of my daughters. I won't abandon them in a country where enemy soldiers are marauding in the landscape._

_I hope my absence won't be to great a disappointment, go on with your life, dear, you have my blessing to become Mrs. Darcy if your uncle and aunt agree._

_As for you, Mr. Darcy, congratulations if you get her, this time, to say yes. You're getting quite a Lady there! Nowhere in the whole Empire will you find a better harmony between wit, beauty and humor. Make her happy and do breed a few boys. Girls are wonderful but after a certain number it tears at the fabric of their father's patience._

_Go with my love_

_Edward Bennet_

Fitzwilliam could not help but laugh.

"I didn't have a lot of opportunities to speak with your father but if his conversation is half as droll as his letters, I'm sure I'm going to enjoy it..."

Lizzie thanked him with a smile and showed the letter to the company.

"There's a last part to this letter," said Lizzie. "On the outside. I suppose he got other news while handing the letter to the courier and didn't want to delay him any more. Here's what is written:

_'Your sisters are all three safe in Rosings. I'll go and get them. I'll be safe. I've an escort. Love_...'. It solves the question of the whereabouts of Jane, Mary and Lydia but it opens new questions..."

Fitzwilliam looked at her.

"Where did he find an escort? In these difficult times finding armed men for escort duties must not have been easy."

Edward Gardiner made a face and could not help but show his worry.

"He didn't spoke of an escort in the letter itself. Could it be that something happened while he was preparing to leave?"

Fitzwilliam shrugged.

"No way to know for sure before he is here to explain it to us. But it is clear that he got news from Rosings! How else could he have known that young Lydia was there too?"

Aunt Gardiner looked at her husband.

"But Rosings is in French occupied Country, is it not?"

Edward Gardiner could only nod.

"Clearly and one must wonder how news from Rosings were able to travel to Longbourn without being intercepted or stopped..."

Lizzie looked at the others.

"Perhaps because the news were escorted?"

All looked back at her.

"What do you mean, dear?" asked Mrs. Gardiner.

"I mean, it seems that papa got the news of Lydia's whereabouts at the same moment as he got the opportunity to be escorted back to Rosings. I have this ugly feeling that one of my sisters got herself more help from the invaders that we ever wished to get. And it was the help of somebody able to provide armed men for escort duties..."

Aunt Gardiner looked at her wide eyed and open mouthed.

"You don't believe that..."

"Who else, aunt? Do you really believe it could be Mary or Jane? It must have been Lydia." She shook her head. "God only knows what happened in Brighton..."

There was an uneasy silence finally broken by aunt Gardiner.

"Hopefully we will get more information when sister Bennet arrives with the children. Perhaps she will be so kind as to give us more news..."

Lizzie had problems to stay straight.

_My God, mama is coming: She could be here today... She_...

She went towards Fitzwilliam, took his hand and pull him toward the door.

"What happened?"

"Nothing yet," answered Elizabeth. "But it will soon happen and I won't let it happen..."

"You're speaking riddles, Elizabeth," said Fitzwilliam. "I must confess, I do not understand."

She stopped and looked him into the eyes.

"Mama is coming and you don't want to know mama in the mood she's in just now! Having been prevented from going to Brighton and having a future son in law with half of Derbyshire and ten thousand a year all in the same week will probably have driven her over the brinks of hysterics..."

She went on and pulled him anew.

"Where are you going?"

"Cutting her hysterics in half!"

Fitzwilliam could only look at her dumbfounded. What could she mean?

Lizzie lifted her eyes to the sky. Sometimes men were really dimwitted.

"We go back to the Church and we are getting married. With a little bit of luck it will deflate the whole story enough to ensure us a few days quietness."

* * *

"Mr. Darcy?"

Reverend Wollropp was an old friend of the Darcy family. Son of a former cook, Mr. Darcy, the grandfather, had financed his studies to become a member of the clergy and had brought him back to Lambton as soon as the Parrish has needed a new priest.

Reverend Wollropp had baptized Fitzwilliam and Georgiana and he had been more than pleased when Fitzwilliam Darcy and Edward Gardiner had come at his Parsonage to speak with him about the incoming marriage.

He had been a little uneasy since the delay was so short but Fitzwilliam having the proper documents, he was more than proud to be the priest who would wed the last Master of Pemberley.

He was probably resting since he was wearing only a vest and slippers.

"What can I do for you?"

"You must marry us," said Elizabeth. "Now, immediately, without any further delay..."

Reverend Wollropp looked at them dumbstruck.

"We have already published the banns, Miss Bennet, it is, as you know, planned for next Sunday. It's only a week from now, not real..."

He stopped in mid sentence and looked at Fitzwilliam Darcy frowning with all the skill of an old family priest.

"Fitzwilliam! From all the young lads I ever saw becoming men if there was one I would have thought patient enough to be able to wait a mere week, it would have been you! How could you!"

Fitzwilliam was so taken by surprise that he could only stammer a few 'buts' and 'I didn't' unable to ease his priest's indignation.

Finally Reverend Wollropp took Elizabeth aside.

"Don't fret, dear, there's no hurry, really. Your fiancé is perhaps impatient," there he shot a dark look at Fitzwilliam, "but he is as much a gentleman as I can judge men. In those dark times, God gives us often difficult trials and it seems that your beauty and liveliness was more than young Fitzwilliam could master. He is only a man and I, for my part, can very well fathom why he could have taken some liberties in advance of your schedule..."

He tapped her on the hand and gave her the most fatherly smile she had aver seen.

"Don't worry, dear, in the eyes of God you're already married and next Sunday's ceremony will only be the presentation to men of a new couple and nothing else."

He blessed her and pulled her to the door with reassuring nods.

"Go in peace dears, Sunday is soon enough..."

When Fitzwilliam finally passed the door, the reverend couldn't help and shook his head...

* * *

The journey back to Pemberley was a difficult affair. Fitzwilliam sulking and refusing to acknowledge her, was pushing Elizabeth at the brink of the giggles.

Luckily she was able to resist all the way home...

* * *


	24. Pemberley Arrivals

Mrs. Bennet arrives at Pemberley. And meets Mr. Darcy...

* * *

**Chapter 24: Pemberley Arrivals**

* * *

**Derbyshire, Pemberley, Sunday evening.**

* * *

"Mr. Darcy, Mr. Darcy..."

Young Hawkins was on his horse shouting from the alley outside the master's study.

Fitzwilliam who had sent the young lad with a few others who where as good riders as him on the road to Derby was immediately at the window.

"Yes?"

"A group of riders. Coming from South. We've seen three of them but there are more. We saw a dist cloud coming from Netwick Alley. Could be a carriage and horses or a large group of cavalrymen."

Fitzwilliam looked back into the study and nodded towards Charles Bingley and Edward Gardiner.

"Could be them... We ride immediately. Please arm yourself and meet me at the stables."

Both men stood up immediately and hurried toward the hall.

Fitzwilliam went back at Hawkins.

"Hawkins, go to the stables and give orders to prepare enough horses for me, Mr. Gardiner, Mr. Bingley and ten foresters and then go to the forest house and summon everybody. I want every able bodied huntsman on a horse in less then ten minutes! Go!"

Ten seconds later, Hawkins was disappearing behind a cloud of dust.

* * *

Mr. Gardiner looked with a lot of misgivings to the double barreled rifle young Fitzwilliam has given him. He was not much of a hunter and even less of a soldier. But there was no choice there. He was now one of the men of the family and it was his duty to be ready to fight to defend the estate where he and his family had found refuge.

His wife gave him a last kiss.

"It's the children, I feel it..." said she. "You won't have to fight. You'll have to survive their assault but nothing more..."

He shook his head and hugged her a last time.

"I pray you're right, dear. I would hate to have to learn to kill in my old years."

"We do what we have to do, dear," answered she. "I cannot guarantee that you will escape fighting during this war, but I'm sure, it won't be today..."

* * *

Charles Bingley was quite happy that Jane would not be on the carriage. He really did not know if he would have found the courage to face her immediately. Knowing her safe at a few hundred miles in the south was quite a relief. He knew he was a coward but he couldn't help it.

He could not just walk towards her and greet her. He knew he couldn't. He would be more ridiculous than ever before in his life. He would stammer and tremble and perspire and...

No. It would be much safer to write first. To ask for forgiveness and to humbly appeal to her understanding.

Meanwhile he would have found the strength within himself to face the awful blunder this episode was for him.

But without te perspective of seeing Jane he was quite determined to do his duty and defend Pemberley. He was a master shot and his rifle was his own and one of the finest workmanship of England. He could behead a thrush at hundred paces with it and he would, without a doubt, use it if there was need to.

* * *

They had all their horses and finally Fitzwilliam Darcy came trotting with his two head foresters towards the stables.

"Sorry for the delay, but we had to decide which way the second group would use. We, of the first group will await the riders at Munchford Crossing. While Jessup and the foresters of group two will

come from behind. With any luck it won't be necessary to fight but if it comes to that, I want a element of surprise and the best cover possible."

He made a last sign to Jessup and climbed up his horse.

"Gentlemen, let's go!"

* * *

"You're Darcy," said the black haired man with the four pistols, two rifles and sword...

"That I am," agreed Darcy. "And who are you?"

"Kennedy, Joss Kennedy. I'm the escort hired by Mr. Bennet to accompany his wife, daughter and family to Pemberley, Derbyshire. Now that we have the journey behind us, I'm paid to deliver them to named Fitzwilliam Darcy..."  
The man spoke a typical Irish brogue. But his speech was intermingled with typical army slang.

Fitzwilliam could not help bu ask.

"You were soldiers?"

"All out of the 95th rifle. We served together in Holland under dear Prince Freddy. After being dismissed we took more profitable jobs. Escort duty is the last of them. Never did it before but then it was really never necessary in the past. That changed quite heavily with the French invasion and so..."

"Irish?"

"All and one, sir. After Holland and what we are not allowed to call a rout we decided that soldiering for the British Crown no longer interested us. We looked for other jobs and we found quite a great deal of business in want of experienced fighters... As a matter of fact we still work for Englishman but now we are paid quite decently..."

"Have you been paid?"

"Yes, in advance. No charge for the addressee..." His smile blossomed. "But, of course, if you are satisfied with the job done, we won't complain if there's a bonus falling in our directions."

He looked at Darcy.

"We wouldn't have accepted without forward payment. It's too risky a job and since Mr. Bennet was going south to get his other daughters, there was a risk we would never see him again. And, as said, with the froggies marauding in the country, we would have found jobs aplenty. He accepted and, as you see, we did our job with speediness and efficiency..."

Mr. Gardiner came nearer.

"Where are they? I would like to see my sister..."

Kennedy showed them the road he and his three comrades had just followed.

"Three hundred yards south. Near a little creek where the rest of my group has established a little camp. Not very much fortification but enough to repel a group of highwaymen... The place is ideal for such a stand..."

Fitzwilliam could only nod. If they had to assault it they would have to pay for it.

"As for seeing the ladies and the kids, no problem. But no more than three persons and you'd better be recognized by the ladies or there won't be a delivery..."

Mr. Gardiner looked at Fitzwilliam and Charles Bingley who nodded their approval.

"My men stay here with your hunters," said Kennedy. "I'm going with you. Better that my buddies seen that we have found an understanding. It will be more peaceful..."

* * *

Three minutes later, a horde of overjoyed children was trying to smother their father under their weight. Weight said father seemed not to notice overwhelmed as he was with happiness and pleasure.

Mr. Bennet had been awaiting this moment with dread and could not help but ask immediately.

"Mr. Darcy," said she curtsying her most gracious curtsey, "forgive my harshness but could we know if Elizabeth has..."

She hesitated and bit her lips.

Fitzwilliam bowed and smiled at her.

"I do believe that within a week I will be very happy to call you mother, Mrs. Bennet."

So happy and proud was she that she took the news with serenity and nothing more than a joyous 'Indeed!'.

"Thank you that you took the burden to come out and greet us in the middle of the country..."

"We could do no more," said Darcy. "Mr. Gardiner was so impatient to see if the carriage we were awaiting had finally arrived that we could do nothing but come with him."

Fitzwilliam gave her his most charming smile.

"And if it was the right carriage, there was also my mother to greet. I wouldn't have missed such a pleasure..."

"Pleasure we share," said Mrs. Bennet.

Fitzwilliam smiled gracefully and he was quite surprised with himself that he really felt pleasure to be with Mrs. Bennet. She was not the ideal stepmother he would have chosen but she was what he got and even if she had a few flaws, not being able to love her children was not one of them. And he had seen too much great ladies forgetting their offspring the second they had overcome the aftereffects of birthing that he could only be glad for it.

She was too enthusiastic a husband seeker? So what? She had no other choice and having the entail hanging over her head like a never ending threat had done nothing to give her a mean to distance herself from said threat.

So what would it bring to complain and cry that she was entering his family?

He wanted her daughter more than anything in the world and if she was included in the package he would do with the whole and never belittle his wife's mother.

Since he had lost his own, he would welcome her as a substitute.

And, since he had no choice in the matter, he would not rejoice in her flaws but happily take what she brought with her!

"How was the journey?"

"Tiring but very fast," answered Mrs. Bennet. "We cannot complain, with the escort everything went without a glitch. With two nights in hostels and one night, the last one, in a barn, it will not be my best memory of a trip, but it will be far from the worst. Never have we been in any danger." She smiled towards Kennedy. "Mr. Kennedy and his men have been perfect as guides, as guards and as company. That was quite a fine idea of my husband..."

Her smile disappeared and a worried look came to her.

"I must confess that a few other ones were not quite so extraordinary. As you see, I'm here only with my daughter Catherine. My other daughter are lost somewhere between London and Brighton and I'm quite anxious to get some news..."

"I think we can help you there," said Fitzwilliam. "Your husband seems to have got news about them. They have been last spotted in Kent, in Hunsford. Lydia included... Your husband should be, at this time with them..."

At everybody's amazement, the news were taken with joy and relief but with neither hysterics nor public display.

"I'm so glad they are safe," said she. "I was worried to death not to be able to do anything to help them..." She looked at her brother. "But I couldn't send your children only with Kittie. She would have been diligent and efficient, for sure, but four children for only the one of her would have been too much. It was my duty to bring them safely to you and sister Gardiner. And Edward was going after the girls. He would do his best. I knew it..."

At this moment, she saw Charles Bingley and her face was immediately covered with a welcoming smile.

"Mr. Bingley? You're are in Pemberley with Mr. Darcy? I'm so sorry that Jane is not with us. She would have been overjoyed to have the possibility to speak with you again. I do believe she never quite was able to overcome the feelings she had for you..."

The smiel disappeared and a worried pout took place of it.

"Having no news from you she was quite unable to guess if you were unconcerned or just too busy to call. We would have been better if we would have known what you really had decided. So, with just your disappearance, we had quite a few difficulties to decide what to do. I, for my part, did believe that you were no longer interested in her. She, on the other side was very reluctant to agree with me. For a long time, she hoped for your return... When she went out with Mary to gather her sister, she still did..."

Charles could only nod.

He didn't know what to say. He had made a failure and he could see no way to correct his past behavior. He was perhaps not entirely responsible but at the end it was Charles Bingley who stopped calling on Jane Bennet, nobody else.

He had had no irons at the feet and he was not locked up in a cell.

At some level he agreed with what was happening. He agreed with what he was doing to Jane...

"I hope, I'll have a chance to speak to her," said he finally. "I owe more than an explanation, I owe her apologies and I'll give them as soon as I can. I'm very sorry if my behavior has been a source of unhappiness for her..."

"It has," said Mrs. Bennet. "But I'm sure Jane will never hold a grudge against you because of what you did. She's not that kind of woman. She's all openness and forgiveness, you'll see. Let her just be in your presence again! I'm sure it's all you need..."

Fitzwilliam has listened to the exchange with increasing uneasiness. Here was a situation where he was directly responsible. He could not let it drift away without intervening.

"Mrs. Bennet? Could I have a few minutes of your attention?"

Mrs. Bennet looked at him with surprise in her eyes.

A little worry too...

"Nothing to do with Elizabeth and me," said he immediately. "We are quite sure we want to marry and nothing could, if you agree, prevent us from becoming husband and wife. No, what I have to confess has nothing to do with our future wedding. But it is important nevertheless..."

She nodded her agreement and he invited her to walk a few yards away from where Mr. Gardiner was listening te the excited story his children were telling him.

"I just heard what you said to Charles had I must say that he is not the principal culprit in this affair. I fear I must admit my whole responsibility, Mrs. Bennet. It is only my fault if Charles vanished out of your daughter's life..."

She looked at him and nodded.

"Because of me, I suppose... You didn't want him to be encumbered by an old hag like me..."

Fitzwilliam was quite surprised by these words. And in a horribly awkward situation... How could he agree without being the most boorish of all boors?

"I..." stammered he. "I..."

"Don't deny it, Mr. Darcy. I'm well aware of my faults. I know that in certain circumstances, I tend to be a little immoderate in my behavior. And stress does not fit well with me. I can understand that you had scruples to let your friend becoming the stepson of one like me..."

Fitzwilliam could do nothing else but say the truth...  
"I fear, even if it is true, that my fault is much more unforgivable, Mrs. Bennet. I pushed Charles to break with Jane out of spite. I was already loving your daughter and I couldn't accept the fact that, if he married Jane, I would have to encounter Elizabeth at each and every of my visits. And I would have visited them often. If only to see Elizabeth..."

He looked at his feet.

"The truth is that I couldn't accept _you_ in my family, Mrs. Bennet. And in order to rule out even the slightest possibility to ever be in a position where my love for Elizabeth would have won over my prejudice against you and your family, I did what I could to part Charles and Jane. Charles believed in me and I misused his trust in such an awful manner that I can no longer hope he being my friend..."

He stopped and looked Mrs. Bennet directly into the eyes.

"I must beg you for forgiveness, Mrs. Bennet. I accused you of being unworthy of my family, and, in hindsight, it seems that it's me who is unworthy of yours..."

A smile came on her lips.

"Than please be sure that I forgive you! And thanks for your frankness. All the time we have known each other, you have always been so _perfect _and so _unreachable_ that I was rather coy and unsure of how you could accept me. I was quite afraid to be seen at your side..."

Her smile blossomed and her eyes sparkled.

"I'm glad you are not perfect Mr. Darcy! It would have been difficult for me to adapt to perfection. Since it appears that neither of us has reached such heights, we will be able, I'm sure, to find ways to meet at mid way..."

He answered with a smile of his own.

"I'm quite sure of it, Mrs. Bennet. And I thank you..."

"No thanks needed, Mr. Darcy. You'll soon be my son and you must know that I'm a very easy mother. I don't remember something I haven't forgiven to a loved one..."

* * *

**Next chapter: Pemberley dinner**


	25. Pemberley Dinner

The new Bennets and the Gardiner are at Pemberley. Dinner time and story time.

* * *

**Chapter 24: Pemberley Dinner**

* * *

**Derbyshire, Pemberley, Sunday evening.**

* * *

The greetings between Mrs. Gardiner and the Gardiner children was as excited and loud as their first encounter with their father.

Even Mrs. Bennet's cries of joy while she was embracing her --_oh, so lucky_-- daughter were covered by the shrieks of pleasure four very relieved young children could utter when they were, finally, reunited with both their parents.

Elizabeth was more than a little embarrassed by all this noise and she was glad that Fitzwilliam has chosen to discreetly vanish.

She would have to talk to her mother but right now she really couldn't help herself just to be happy to see that she and Kittie nd the kids were all sound an safely arrived in Pemberley.

After a few minutes turmoil, Mrs. Gardiner gained the upper hand and was able to calm her brood enough to make them say goodnight to every body.

They would eat in their room and Mrs. Gardiner was resolute to be with them until the last of her darlings was fallen asleep.

* * *

While the family gathering was taking place in the hall, Fitzwilliam has shown Kennedy and his men where they could spend the night. The horses had already been taken away and led to the stables.

"Here," said Darcy showing Kennedy a suite of five rooms of the basement which were furnished in order to host servants of guests who came with a greater retinue. "The linens have been changed and you are welcome to use the bathrooms at the end of the hall. Please do not carry weapons while walking around within the house. My staff has not yet an habit of seeing armed men on my grounds. It will perhaps have to change but I don't believe that time is upon us, yet..."

"We'll store our weapons in the central room, Sir," said Kennedy. "And they will be under constant guard. There will be no accident there..."

"Thank you, Mr. Kennedy. Please don't take it as a mark of mistrust but armed followers are really not common on this estate."

"No offense taken, Sir. Weapons are bad enough, we won't take a risk of injuring any one."

"Thanks again, Mr. Kennedy."

Fitzwilliam showed him to a room.

"This is your room. As you see there are clothes on the bed. They should be the right size. If it pleases you, I'd like to welcome you at my dinner table. My guests and I will probably have lots of questions to ask you about the situation in and around London. If you'd be kind enough to accept to submit yourself to a hail of questions, we would be vary glad."

"It will be my pleasure, Sir. I hope you'll forgive me if my words or tone are a little rough. I'm more in the habit of eating in military camps than at tables of large estates..."

"If you take care not to shock the ladies, we will be lenient about any hoarse language you' d use..."

He bowed and went to the door.

"We eat at eight fifteen. I'll send you a footman. Your men can eat in the servant lobby whenever they want from seven on."

Kennedy bowed and accompanied the master of the house the whole way to the entrance of the little suite of rooms.

When he came back, he spoke Gaelic.

"Be careful of what you say, men. In those houses servants listen and report. And if this Darcy is half as prudent as ours, he will listen to what his servants have to say. So, not a word about what we are or what we did. Speak only of the journey from Hertfortshire to here. That should be safe. The rest does not exist, do we agree?"

"We agree," said O'Donnel. "And we won't speak, we will sleep." He pushed the mattress on the bed and a smile came on his face. "After a week sleeping in the saddle we will use each minute of these beds, you can count on it. No reason to fear a false word. I'll set the guard schedule, go eat something and then I'll jump into these marvelous sheets..."

"Take a bath, all of you," ordered Kennedy. "It's not every day that you have such an opportunity. Use it lavishly, next one is in the far future..."

He turned.

"I'm on my way to the bath tube. Back in half an hour..."

He went to the door when O'Donnel called him back.

"Be careful with the brandy, sarge, you know, when drunk, you talk..."

"I'll be cautious! I won't drink too much..."

His men looked at each other. He always believed it... Before and till the second glass...

As soon as Kennedy was out of the room, Doolittle jumped on the bed he had chosen.

"Let's get as much sleep as possible! If Joss blabbers too much, it could be that we're out of here before midnight... Personally, I wouldn't bet on a whole night's sleep..."

* * *

The dinner was a joyous and happy affair. Even if some of the guests were still worried with what could happened to the rest of the family, most of the time there was laughter and merriment.

Even Kennedy was able to contribute to the merriment with anecdotes of his time in the army.

Soon the gentlemen went to the billiard room and serious talk could begin.

"How's the situation in the south?"

It was Bingley who asked.

He would quit Pemberley in the next days and he wanted to know what was awaiting him.

"How far south?"

"London and surroundings..."

Kennedy took a deep breath of his cigar --_a very good one_-- and blew a few circles in the sky.

"I don't want to scare you but it was rather..." he hesitated. "Exciting. Lots of people on the move and quite a few who were looking for a way to get away quickly. And it is more than probable that this exact situation will happen here in the North within a few week. The French came ashore with a lot of troops and under a very good commanding staff. Some people say that they are under the command of Buonaparte himself. And I'm sure you know that we have no one able to stop him here in Great Britain. And I really hope, the King won't give this responsibility to Freddy..."

Bingley could help but approve.

The Holland campaign of Prince Frederick had been a failure and had brought nothing but a pamphlet praising "_merry prince Freddy_" and his famous soldiering skills.

"I would like to go back to London," said Mr. Gardiner. "Would it be possible to hire you as an escort?"

"When all is said, that's where we want to return. That's where there will be money to be made. We would escort you to London and since Mr. Darcy gave us quite a juicy bonus, we will be very sound in our demands. We'll plenty opportunities to make money when back in London. I'm sure there are a lot of potential patrons waiting for us..."

Darcy looked at him and frowned.

"Would you be interested in a more secure job? Even if the French do not slip into marauding ad pillaging, there will be quite a few opportunists who will test the ground and try to rob estates and villages. A few experienced soldiers could be a very welcome adjunct to an estate..."

"No doubt to that," answered Kennedy, "and if at our next journey North, your proposition is still hanging, we'll probably accept. I must, of course, ask my men but I'm sure they are interested. If only because of the beds... But with the situation as it is, it would be loosing a great deal of money not going back. And with these Sirs having a use for an escort, I can say that they have a deal!"

Darcy looked at him with frowning eyes.

"Why not use the opportunity to pillage?"

"No," answered Kennedy. "We did it for Freddy in Holland and we spoke about doing it on our behalf, but the men voted against. Too risky and not enough profit. The receiver takes always the greatest part..."

"Is there experience speaking?"

"Indeed. We did it for a time, but, as said, it was too risky for too little a profit. We agreed on using our skills on other fields."

He sucked delicately at his cigar.

"And what we did in Holland is not our best memory. Looting estates and burning them down to cover the traces of our robbery is definitively not something we learned to like. Each time I saw such a splendid house crashing under the burning timber of its roof, my heart was crying. We were destroying a home not only for the master's family but for dozens of servants who would, if they had survived the passage of war, starve to death..."

He looked up.

"Because, of course, we also burned the crops."

He let out a long breath.

"War's not a pretty thing, Mr. Darcy, and we got more than our share of it. Now we are "free traders" who rent out their work force to wealthy people who want to be protected while in trouble. From time to time we are hired by creditors to get back their money."

He looked up and a happy smile covered his lips.

"And we quite enjoy squeezing the Englishman to make him spit out his money..."

He looked Darcy in the eyes.

"But we no longer accept to rob poor people. We let this job to politicians, aristocrats and land owners who get their riches by exploiting their tenants..."

Darcy refused to fall to the bait.

Pemberley was a great estate but his tenants were no longer exploited.

More than a quarter of what the tenants gave to the Darcy family was reinvested in communal work. He had six estate granaries were he was hoarding enough corn to fed his people for two years without a harvest. Twenty carpenters were on the loose in his half of Derbyshire to repair and maintain houses and barns. A squad of workers was repairing the roads and bridges of the Estate day and night. A doctor, paid by Darcy, was at the call of everyone of his tenants if the need arose. And the day after his marriage he would hire a second one, a specialist of women ailments and birth. Both his parents have died because the town apothecary was not able to see what was happening to his mother. He could not --_he would not_-- accept that Elizabeth could die because of the inexperience of a doctor...

His sons would have their mother till they grow old and senile.

Not like him.

The very day he became the Master of Pemberley he had written to an old Cambridge friend who lived a difficult life in London with his wife and two children. He was a doctor, one of these rare professionals who were looking after the symptoms with cures and drugs and not killing the patients with enemas and bleedings.

Of course he came immediately and since then Pemberley hasn't lost a single soul but of old age or accident. And even for those, the doctor had been able to save more than his share who would have died without him.

He changed the line of the discussion.

"And on the road, how was it?"

"Strangely calm! As if nobody knew what was happening in the South. There were a lot of people on the roads but since we never did it normally I'm unable to say if there was heavy traffic or normal traffic. We got through without a problem..."

He smiled.

"We were quite impressing, I must confess. We even shot a few Highwaymen who attacked a carriage in front of us. It was none of our business, I know, but those guys tend to believe they can do everything once they had a success. They could have decided that another robbery was the smart move of the day. We convinced them to change trade..."

His smile became frightening.

"Very easy convincing..."

"No preparations? No where?"

"Before Derby not a hint of a preparation. As if people did not know what to do. As if they did not know that an invading army was on English soil."

"And in Derby?"

Kennedy nodded.

"Not the same, there. Boys on the outlook on roofs. Carts with timber at every crossroad. And lots of water tanks everywhere. They know something's coming and they are ready."

He shrugged his shoulders.

"As ready as they can be without proper fortifications..."

Bingley came nearer.

"You seem unconvinced that it will have a use..."

"It will and it won't..." answered Kennedy. "It will because between a ready town and an undefended one, a clever commander will always chose the undefended one, letting the other in peace. But it will last only so long. When every other town in the vicinity has surrendered, they will come and look you nevertheless. Than it's time to put the white flag out of storage and begin the negotiations..."

He looked at Darcy.

"That's also true for your Estate. Good thing to look tough in the beginning. Stragglers and looters will went elsewhere. But as soon as the main army shows its vanguard, get your linen on a rod and go discuss with the enemy commander. Those officers are all the same, they like their comfort and they love to live in fancy estates with lots of beautiful things surrounding them. They won't burn down the manor where they eat and sleep... Only problem, when comes the time to retreat. Then it had happened that some turned arsonist all the same. But it is rather rare. One becomes accustomed to one's environment and one does not burn a building where there are good memories..."

He looked at the gentlemen with a knowing smile.

"It's even better if the mistress has been very open to the desires of said invaders. Never saw a lover burn down the house of his paramour before quiting. People are so easy to manipulate..."

Darcy could not help but nod.

Pemberley was no medieval castle. And even would he have been, it would not have had the capability to withstand to modern artillery.

"Nothing to do, then, that's what you are saying..."

Kennedy lost his smile.

"Never said that. Depends on what you are ready to lose. It's of no use to defend yourself here. Let it be occupied. But if you want to fight, go into the woods and the hills. Go and fight where the enemy does not know how to find you. Hide in holes like rats and come out at night to slit the throats of sleeping soldiers. Next day they will swarm all over the country and you'll have plenty of opportunities to kill more of them... Without great risk for yourself or your men... They'll never find you. They don't know the lay of the Land..."

"What about the villages and towns?" asked Bingley.

Kennedy's smile was back.

"What about them? They'll pay for you. Why not? These cowards choose not to fight, not to defend their country. What happens to them is their fault. The enemy will shoot a few --or a lot-- of villagers. They will burn a few --or a lot-- houses and they will rape a few --or a lot-- women. And in the end you'll have plenty of new volunteers to fight with you. New rats in the holes to slit more enemy throats."

He laughed and it was a joyless and icy laugh.

"And one day some of said villagers will turn against you and show your holes to the enemy and they will get you while you sleep. And then you'll die, sooner or later..."

His shark smile was back.

"You can postpone this unhappy ending. If you have time to prepare send far far away those you know will not have the courage to fight. If you don't have the time or if you don't care, kill all those who won't be fighting with you and who know where to find you. And forget none or you're dead..."

He looked at his glass.

"But even so you'll get caught in the end. Because they will know who you are and they will strike those you love. They will kill parents, rape and mutilate sisters and brothers, hang old friends. And you'll become angry. Very, very angry... And an angry man makes mistakes. And one day there will be your last mistake and they'll catch you. And then you're in for a few very vexing months..."

Darcy went around Kennedy and sat in front of him.

"You seem to speak out of experience..."

Kennedy couldn't help bu laugh.

"What do you think? I'm Irish and soldier and son of soldier... We know of such things. They British did it to us and we did it to those poor souls who had the bad idea not to welcome the English rule with flowers and hurrays... Yes, I speak out of experience..."

Darcy took a long breath. Time to verify Elizabeth's theory.

"Where were you in ninety eight?"

Kennedy raised his eyes to the ceiling. A few seconds passed. That he looked directly at Darcy.

"Kilkerny..."

Darcy nodded.

"And not on the English side of the fighting..."

Kennedy shook his head.

"Not on the English side of the fighting."

Their eyes locked and a lot of time passed.

Darcy had had access to the reports of the Irish insurrection of 98. And what had happened there was nothing England could be proud of. What was worst, what the English soldiers had done was something that could never be forgiven. Never ever would the Irish and the English e able to live in peace within the same realm. That fairy tale had been buried with the thousands of Irish insurgents the British troops had killed, maimed and shot.

"And you weren't caught?"

It was Bingley who came to Darcy's rescue.

Kennedy loosened his glance and looked at the red hair.

There was Irish blood running in this one. No doubt about it. And his smile was that of an honest and frank lad. Kennedy liked him a lot. He was as the Irish lads were a few years ago. Smiling, happy and open hearted.

That was ell in the past now.

"Oh, yes, I was caught! And I spent nine months in Raghlar. Those months were hell on earth..."

"Raghlar," Bingley looked at Mr. Gardiner. "Wasn't there a giant prison break in ninety nine?"

"Indeed, there was," agreed Mr. Gardiner. "Thousands of insurgents broke out. But they were all recaptured."

Kennedy shook his head.

"Not all. Only those who choose to stay in Ireland. Those of us who choose to go with our rescuer are still alive and very much satisfied with what they are doing just now..."

"Your rescuer? You had outside help? Nothing ever was said or written that such was the case."

Kennedy turned back toward Darcy.

"We had, Mr. Darcy. We had. And if you never heard of his exploits, it's because he is much smarter than the whole of English aristocracy. He came all the way from France to get us out of this Hell. And he killed half of the jailers before they even knew he was inside. Then he let us finish the job. We were very grateful that he did... He provided us with a sort of redemption. It was very nasty but it did us all a hell of good."

He looked at Darcy.

"And then he gave us the choice. Go with him and prepare the liberation of Ireland from outside or stay to prepare it from the inside. Most choose to stay but five hundred choose to go with him. And each and everyone of us will thank him to the end of our life for what he gave us that day."

He eyes sparkled and his smile came back. But it was a smile full of admiration and worship.

"Because, gentlemen, for us, d'Arcy is a god..."

* * *

**Next chapter: Pemberley Ballad**


	26. Pemberley Ballad

Kennedy's going on with his tale.

* * *

**Chapter 26: Pemberley Ballad**

* * *

**Derbyshire, Pemberley, Sunday the 9th evening.**

* * *

As everyone in the Billiard room was looking at him, Darcy couldn't help but raise his hands in surrender.

"Sorry, gentlemen, nobody gave me a forewarning that I climbed into Godhood a few years ago..."

He looked at Kennedy.

"I'm not the d'Arcy you're speaking of. Am I?"

Kennedy chuckled.

"No, you're not. You're family, that's for sure, but you're an Englishman to the blood. He's not! He a d'Arcy from the French root of the family. The last of them."

Darcy shook his head.

"There are no more French Darcys, they all died in the revolution..."

"I believe you're wrong there. There's one left. Geoffroy d'Arcy's his name. That one's too smart to get caught by anyone. He came through it and now he's the Corsican's best strategist. And while we are speaking, he's conquering Great Britain with seventy thousand experienced soldiers..."

Kennedy's smile blossomed with mirth.

"You stand no chance. And soon, Englishmen will suffer from the French the same we suffered from them. And we will help them with guile and pleasure, bet on it! Since 98 is very fresh in our memories, we won't have difficulties to copy the right maneuvers to crush each and every insurrection you'll stage..."

He rubbed his hands with anticipation.

"We really look forward to it..."

"So you came ashore with this d'Arcy in Brighton?"

Bingley could not help himself but ask more. They had a direct witness of what had happened in the South and they needed to know.

"So we did. The first wave out of the barges. He at our side, as usual. We caught the famous British troops with their trousers around their ankles. Didn't even fight. Way too easy. And since we were not allowed to slaughter the prisoners, believe it, we were quite frustrated. But we came around. We were there, on English soil with seventy thousand veterans at our side. Victory was certain..."

Mr. Gardiner was quite upset with the Irishman's address.

"What about the Navy? Why weren't they along the Channel sinking your bloody barges?"

Kennedy could not help but laugh aloud.

"Because they were guarding the Irish coasts, my dear Mr. Gardiner. They had captured thousands of Irish insurgents and all had said --_under torture_-- the same thing, _He_ would come back with troops to free Ireland. And the day we began to board, we Irish in the first line, all English spies have sent the obvious message to their masters. We were going to Ireland... And soon most of the Royal Navy was trying to intercept empty frigates going to Ireland..."

Bingley made a face.

"Bloody idiots. Why send most of the fleet. To blockade Ireland a few dozens ships would have been enough..."

"We had our own ships, Mr. Bingley. The channel was not empty of English vessels. There were a few to stand guard. Our steam ship sank them in the early stages of the invasion."

Bingley stopped him with a wave of his hand.

"Steam ships?"

Kennedy smiled happily at him.

"Steam ship, Mr. Bingley! Ugly shallow pieces of iron floating God only knows how and armed with the greatest guns I have ever seen. Those things have twice the range of normal ship canons even if they are only a few inches over the sea level. And when their cannonballs hit, they explode! I loved it to see those proud English ship of the line sink after only two hits. We cheered each and every one of the kills."

"Impossible," said Bingley. "I've studied the theories of Denis Papin in _Acta Erudicorum_ and I agreed with my master that it would be impossible to build..."

Kennedy could not help but mock the young man's cock sureness.

"What you believe impossible, d'Arcy did it and even if it seems impossible, his steamboats float and move without any help of wind and currents. They have great turning crosses astern which are pushing them! Quite impressive, you can believe me who saw them... That's the new way ships are going to be built, Mr. Bingley and thanks to d'Arcy, it's France who knows how to do it..."

He gave Darcy a proud look.

"You can be proud of your cousin, Mr. Darcy. He is a genius and a very clever man. Thanks to him, I fear, the British Empire will soon lose its hold on the seas. Soon, there will be more iron armored French vessels than wooden English ones to patrol the world oceans. And you know as well as I that without the control of the seas most of Britain's wealth will soon disappear. Bad times ahead of the English Aristocracy, gentlemen..."

Mr. Gardiner stood and came to stand at the side of Darcy.

"You said there are seventy thousand men ashore. What do the French want?"

"Conquer Great Britain, what else? You don't disembark seventy thousand men just to show that you have them. We're here to invade the British Isles. There was never a doubt in us that's what we came here for..."

Mr Gardiner looked at Darcy.

"Seventy thousand men? Do we stand a chance?"

Darcy shook his head;

"Never. For what I know, militias included ,we had thirty five thousand men in Great Britain and ten thousand in Ireland. And more then fifteen thousand men were encamped at Brighton. That means that we have thirty thousand to their seventy thousand."

"Twenty two thousand three hundred and fifteen," said Kennedy. "That's the number of prisoners we took in Brighton. And the only experienced troops you still have are the ten thousand horse guards of the royal regiments in London. Murat's cavalry is very eager to show them what real cavalrymen look like..."

Bingley raked his hair with his hands.

"For all we know, London could be French at this hour..."

"No chance" answered Kennedy. "He isn't interested in taking the Town. He doesn't want a battle there. He'll take the rest and wait... It's a matter of strategy, if I have got it right. He's sure he'll got the Capital without a fight if he waits long enough. No problem with me, there... Hate it to fight in streets and alleys. Hell of a way to fight..."

"You wouldn't know your Commander in chief's overall Strategy?"

Kennedy smiled at Bingley.

"Not the details, but the overall strategy is quite clear. Take the coasts and capture the ports. And then march inland. From Brighton he sent four armies to secure the south coasts and Cornwall. They should be in range by now..."

"Why are you saying this to us, Mr. Kennedy?" asked Bingley. "We are enemies, yous shouldn't even speak to us, much less give us details on your battle plans..."

"All part of his strategy," explained Kennedy. "He asked us to speak about it. Since you have no more forces to put against our armies for you to know the strategy is no problem. And knowing that you're outnumbered, out-gunned and outsmarted will do very bad things to your morale. And as he often says, to win you must believe in Victory. The day you start to consider defeat, you're out of the game..."

Darcy could only shook his head.

Why were these Irishmen here in Pemberley. Who was this d'Arcy?

"Why are you here, Mr. Kennedy? Why did you help Mrs. Bennet to journey safely to Pemberley?"

Kennedy mad a face.

"No choice, there, Mr. Darcy. Mr. Bennet ordered us to escort his wife, daughter and family. As I said, we had no choice. It was that or he would have refused to go to Rosings..."

Darcy jumped in.

"You know Rosings?"

Kennedy nodded.

"Indeed we do. We were encamped there just before the Old Man asked us to go to Longbourn..."

"You know Hunsford?"

Once more Kennedy nodded.

"Yes, it's the Parsonage of the old Dragon's parson. Ugly little weasel, this one..."

"Some guests, there?" insisted Darcy.

Kennedy nodded for the third time and smiled.

"Quite a few. Three Bennet daughters and retinue. Were all safe and sound the moment we rode out towards Longbourn."

He took a sip of his Port.

"And when we arrived there we saw that a carriage was being charged and a crowd of excited children was surrounding it. We were quite upset. They were probably preparing to go North. Going South would not be their goal of predilection. We would probably have to force them to follow us. That was not what we had in mind. Luckily, Kervadec and Mr. Bennet stroke a bargain. I was going North with the rest of the family and Kervadec South with Mr. Bennet to Rosings. Not exactly what the old man wanted but the best we could get out of the situation. In the end, it went for the best, don't you think? Without us, I'm quite sure the highwaymen would have increased their business..."

Bingley went to the table and poured himself a big glass of Port wine.

"But why were you in Longbourn. What has Longbourn to do with your Commander in chief?"

Kennedy looked at him and frowned.

"As I said, he wanted us to get the Bennets to Rosings."

"But why? What are his links with the Bennets?"

Once more Kennedy chuckled.

"There are no _links_, Mr. Bingley. There is only one link and that link is a beautiful blond blue eyed young Lady hosted at Hunsford."

Bingley turned towards him.

"Blond?"

"Yes, blond. She is the eldest, if I have correctly grasped the family bonds. Jane's her name. Mary is the brown haired in between and Lydia, the auburn, should be the youngest... Never saw three more different sisters. The eldest is quite the looker and one of the most sensible young woman I ever met. I do believe d'Arcy wanted to bring her family into safety..."

He looked at Darcy.

"I suppose that the rest of the Bennet being here in Pemberley, they can be considered as safe."

Darcy frowned and leaned forward.

"Why should it be so?"

Kennedy opened his eyes as if surprised.

"Isn't evident? Pemberley is a Darcy family property. As soon as the army gets here, the whole area will be patrolled and heavily guarded. This place, and Rosings and Matlock as well, will have the highest security measures conceivable. No surer places in whole Europe."

Darcy made a face.

"Why would this d'Arcy take such extreme measures to protect _my_ Estate?"

Kennedy shrugged his shoulders.

"That, you'll have to ask him yourself. No doubt he will come himself soon enough. I know Pemberley is one of his primary goals. But if you don't mind a guess, he's very prone to protect his family's properties. He's very strong on family ties..."

Darcy couldn't help but look toward the sky. What could be the real intentions of this cousin of his?

What were his goals with him and Georgiana.

Seeing a lull in the conversation Bingley risked the question which was smothering him.

"Could we come back to Jane Bennet, please? What's her role in this whole story?"

Kennedy turned in his armchair ad looked at Bingley.

"Her role? Now? That, I don't know. What I know is that d'Arcy is quite interested in her and that _her_ safety is, just now, very high in his mind. I'm with him since 99 and never saw him react like that. Being a normal human being, I'd say he's in love."

Another, more knowing smile replaced the puzzled expression of Kennedy.

"And having seen her reactions I'd say he was not without results in his courting. As it looks like, it could very well be that the Bennets will be in a very near future family..."

He flashed a happy smile at Darcy.

"As it looks, you soon could be brothers..."

* * *

A light rasp at the door called Elizabeth's attention.

She raised her head and listened.

Another light rasp.

She stood up and went to the door.

It was probably Emma who had asked her if she could sleep with her if she had trouble to escape the nightmares she was accustomed to.

She opened and stared wide eyed at the face of Fitzwilliam Darcy.

She looked at him and he looked at her.

Smiles came unknowingly and after a few seconds of the longest eternity she could remember, her feet took over and pushed her body to the side.

He glided in and her arm closed the door.

And then they were in each others arms, oblivious to the world, the war, the estate...

* * *

A long time later.

"Mr. Darcy, am I wrong or have you just intruded in my room and spent some time kissing me?"

He took a deep breath, inhaling her lilac and rose fragrance. She sensed he was smiling and so was she.

He had really no intention to let her go and the way her head was lying on his shoulder gave him some insurance that they both were quite happy with the situation.

"I do believe, Miss Bennet that you invited me to come in..."

"You do?"

"Yes," whispered he, "definitely, I _do..."_

"Strange, I do not remember having invited you..."

"You stepped aside..."

"And you concluded that this simple step was an invitation?"

"A few doubts remained but they all disappeared the second you began to kiss me!"

"_I_ kissed you? I do believe it was just the contrary. _You _kissed me!"

He literally purred.

"Since I'm a gentleman, and even if it is not the case, I'll accept to bear the fault. I kissed you..."

She responded with a purr of her own.

"Well, I do like when you accept the responsibility for your acts, Mr. Darcy. You wouldn't want that I do believe you of acting ungentlemanly, would you?"

"Never again, dearest, loveliest Elizabeth..."

She hugged him with a force she could not have thought possible.

"Are you trying to seduce me with your wonderful words, Mr Darcy?"

"Would you mind?"

She took a few seconds to think about his question. Or to be more precise to let him believe she was thinking about it.

"Perhaps... Or to be frank I would mind if those words were not expressing the truth of your feelings, Mr. Darcy..."

"The truth of my feelings are beyond any doubt, Miss Elizabeth."

He hugged with as much force she had done it a few seconds earlier.

"You have bewitched me body and soul and I love, I love, I love you..."

She thanked him with another kiss and this time she was sure that _she_ was initiating it.

* * *

**Next chapter: Pemberley Magic**


	27. Pemberley Magic

Shame on them!

* * *

**Chapter 27 Pemberley Magic**

* * *

**Derbyshire, Pemberley, night from Sunday to Monday.**

* * *

"Fitzwilliam, it's ridiculous..."

She couldn't help but giggle. They had just passed under what Fitzwilliam called _his_ "secret exit" and he was still holding her in his arms while walking through the wet lawn.

And his walk was not a sedate one. She was clinging to her fiancée with all the strength she was able to muster.

"No, it's not," answered he. "I swore I would do it and I'm going to do it..."

"It's more than a mile away, dear. You'll be exhausted..."

He stopped and looked at her.

They were not farther away from the manor than a hundred paces.

"Does it matter?"

She looked to the heaven and shook her head.

"Of course it matters! You already had a difficult day and I know your last night was rather short. What we are going to do is --_some say_-- better done when rested!"

She let out a real growl.

"We could already be in my bed and doing..." She hesitated and he felt her blush. "...It!"

She felt him smile.

"Indeed we could and I'm as impatient as you. But a word is a word. And I will not forswear my first oath to you..."

"Nobody spoke of carrying me the whole way to the grove, Fitzwilliam. I'm able to walk..."

"I do not doubt it for a second. But there's a part of me who wants me to carry you this whole way..."

She exhaled a long and heavy breath.

"It's nevertheless ridiculous. I could have walked most of the way and you could have carried me then last hundred paces..."

"It would not have been the same..."

"In that case, wouldn't it have been even better if you had carried me the whole way from Longbourn?"

He smothered a laugh.

"Indeed but I fear no man has such an amount of patience in him... I certainly do not. I will regret it my whole life but from the manor to the grove will be the whole of my penance this night..."

"Penance?"

"Of course, penance, dearest love. What I'm going to do, no real gentleman would even envision. It seems that your judgment in April was quite on the spot!"

"My judgment in April as I already said it, was foolish and moronic. I should have done what you wanted and didn't! I should have come up to you and kissed you. Then you would have jumped me and given me the proof that all your babble about family and conveniences was nothing than an excuse to satisfy your pride... I would have found the most delicate of all lovers and I'm sure I would not have had to dig very deep."

"We'll see very soon if there's such a person as a delicate lover within the very ungentlemanly person who is carrying you..."

With the hand which wasn't holding his neck like mad, she forced him to look at her.

"The man who is carrying me is the most perfect gentleman I have ever encountered and I really hope my awful words of last April will some day end coming back to haunt me..."

She heaved herself up and gave him a kiss.

"And I really would prefer you rested and in good shape..."

He laughed at her.

"That's the real reason of your being upset. You fear I'll be unable to do what we both know I'm going to do if I'm able not to fall immediately asleep..."

She joined both her hands behind his neck and placed her head against his chest.

"If you fall asleep, I'll roll you into the pond... I'm sure that will wake you up..."

"Than I hope very much that I'm not going to fall asleep. If I remember the last time I bathed in this pond it's very very cold even in summer..."

"I'll do my best to keep you awake..."

* * *

He had feared that he would have to let her go to crawl through the heavy brush.

But, this very night, for the first time since the death of his father, he had found a way to the grove without crawling on all fours.

This night he was able to bring her next to the pond without ever letting her go.

Deep inside himself he knew that it was what had to be done. What he, the master of Pemberley, had to do!

He brought her to the moss of their wedding bed and there, all idea of sleep and exhaustion forgotten, he began to let the delicate lover in him take the front.

* * *

Thousands of years the Grove has been a center of worship and magic. Thousands of years druids of both sexes have gone to the grove to worship nature and to receive the blessing of the sacred spring.

On some very special days, some very special guests were invited to share their first night on the moss of the pond and in the sacred energy of the grove.

For more than a millennium nobody has worshiped _Her_ in her most sacred place in the only form _She_ understood as natural.

Till this night of august 1801 where the master of the Land had brought his betrothed to present her to _Her_. And _She_ took the gift of blood and love in Her and the Strength of centuries began to rage through the Grove.

Energies long hoarded in the millennia old Oak trees were unleashed and flowed freely for the first time in centuries. And both the lovers got what was the secret of this most sacred of Groves, the gift of endurance, strength and, at the end of the night, the gift of new life...

* * *

They slept longer than they could have believed. It was the sun of noon who stroked them out of Morpheus' arms.

They were in each other arms, naked as newborns and as pleased and satisfied as was humanly possible.

She purred her satisfaction into his chest and he purred back while stroking her luscious hair.

She was the first who recalled where they were and what had just happened.

"We will have to give some explanations..."

He sniffed his approval.

"And nobody will believe us..."

She looked at him and smiled.

"You should have let me take my things, you awful seducer. Now I'm here, more than a mile from my bedroom with only my night cloth and quite an amount of bruises everywhere on my body. I wouldn't have believed that love making was so..."

"Taxing?"

"Energetic..."

He laughed and kissed the top of her head.

"We had a rather spirited night, I must confess that I would not have believed we could be so inventive on our first night together..."

"That we were, Fitzwilliam. But what we are now is late and far away from where we should be. Our little night walk went quite well, but I'm fearing the way back to Pemberley will not go so unnoticed..."

He hugged her and marveled about the perfect way their bodies were matching. There was no longer a doubt that they were built to be the perfect match.

"I love, I love, I love you..." whispered he.

"So do I, Fitzwilliam and I thank you for the wonderful present of this last night..."

"The gift came both sides..." answered he. "I'm the most happy of men and I know how we will be able to went on unnoticed..."

She turned around and looked up at him while laying on him.

"Yes?"

He smiled.

"We stay here, we pass the remaining hours till midnight studying each other and tomorrow we reappear in our bedrooms as if nothing had happened..."

She smiled back.

"With studying you would not mean..."

"Loving? Of course I do..."

She shook her head while her hands played with his hairy chest.

"Even the heavy brushes of this Grove will not hush my cries enough to hide our occupations..."

He pulled her up till their lips joined.

"I do remember that you were quite loud in your exclamations, Miss Elizabeth."

"That's because you were quite accurate in your moves, Mr. Darcy. I did not suspect that I was going to marry a satyr and such an experienced seducer. You seem to have learned by heart every place of a woman's body where you could bestow pleasure and bliss."

"You are my inspiration, loveliest Elizabeth. I have had some experience with women but never before have I known with such accuracy where to stroke and kiss to be able to give pleasure. It was as if I had already known you for centuries..."

She bit him.

"Beware, this century old hag has still a few teeth..."

He tried to push her away and she retaliated with tickling him.

They were both in the giggles when they heard a voice calling...

They stopped laughing to listen.

It was clearly Kittie's voice.

* * *

"Lizzie! I heard you! I know you're here somewhere! And I know you're with Fitzwilliam and I _know_ you have no decent clothes..."

There was a silence.

"But _I_ have everything you'll need to keep up appearances... Even a brush and hairpins to help you keep up the story of our going out to picnic early this morning..."

There was a noise like two bottles colliding.

"I even have everything to organize a real picnic... I'm sure you're hungry after your..." She coughed. "...morning walk..."

There was a sound of feet crushing leaves.

"I'll wait at the Diana statue. If you're hungry there's where to look..."

* * *

Lizzie and Fitzwilliam looked at each other and very briskly stood up to collect their things.

"How did she find us?" whispered Fitzwilliam.

Lizzie could only shrug her shoulders.

"Probably followed us last night..." answered Lizzie in the same manner. "We Bennets are quite the curious tribe, you know. She probably saw us creeping out of the house. Of course she would follow us..."

"What do we do?" mouthed he.

"We negotiate, of course," answered Lizzie. "We have no choice, we need the clothes and we need the excuse. She has got the best cards of the game."

Fitzwilliam gave her a worried look.

"What is she going to want?"

"It will cost us in balls and parties," smiled Elizabeth.

She saw Fitzwilliam made a face.

"She's not so terrible as you remind her. When away from Lydia she is quite reasonable and should be easy to satisfy... And I'm sure Georgiana and her will soon become friends... And I'm really sure that Georgiana will have a soothing influence on her..."

"So what do we do?"

"You go out and get her... What else?"

She had retrieved her night gown --which was dry and fragrant-- and passed it.

"I'm stuck here till she comes and helps me dress..."

"I could..." said Fitzwilliam.

She could only laugh.

"Not yet, love! After a few weeks married life perhaps but right now, I fear you do not know half of what is necessary to dress a woman..."

He sighed and put his skirt in his trousers and sat down to put on his boots.

A few seconds later he stood up and kissed her.

"I'm getting her... I'll show her the way and I won't come back with her..." He hugged her a last time and turned toward the "door" in the brush.

Just before crouching he turned and smiled at her.

"Please hurry, I'll be waiting outside."

* * *

Fitzwilliam was more than surprised when he arrived at the marble bench next to the Diana statue.

Not only were there Kittie but she was accompanied by his sister Georgiana.

They looked at him and if Kittie's smile was a little mocking, Georgiana's was as it was usually when she looked up at him.

"Fitzwilliam, is everything well?"

He went to her and kissed her.

"More than well, dear. I fear I let my love for Elizabeth pull me into unknown excesses. I hope you won't be too disappointed with your brother..."

"Disappointed? Certainly not. I'm so happy that you and Elizabeth had found each other. I couldn't be happier if it was me who were in love."

"It will sooner or later happen, dear. And I hope that you'll find a man as interesting for you as Lizzie is for me."

Kittie winked at him.

"So that's what it is called? Interesting!" She laughed at him and grabbed a bag. "Is she more interesting nights or days?"

He choose to laugh at himself.

"Since last night I can only say that nights your sister is as interesting as days. Not in exactly the same manner but there is a lot to be learned about her in the night..."

Even Georgiana laughed at his relaxed manners.

She pointed the bag.

"Could you show us the way to her, brother? I'm sure that she will be very satisfied with what this bag contains. And with our help to put them on..."

"Come, I show you the way and meanwhile I'll organize our picnic near the trout pond. Just next to the great willow tree..."

* * *

"How is it that you were able to help me?" asked ELizabeth while Kittie was brushing her hair.

Kittie looked at Georgiana and raised an eyebrow.

"That's my fault," answered Georgiana. "I dreamt of you and Fitzwilliam".

Lizzie couldn't help but feel her cheeks begin to heat.

"And what exactly did you dream?"

"I saw you in need of clothes. Coming home with Fitzwilliam' jacket covering your night gown... And since I have had a good vision of where you came from, I decided to see if I couldn't help you. That's when I encountered Kittie in the Hall. She was there because she felt that she would be needed. We spoke..."

Kittie giggled while dressing Lizzie's hair.

"I convinced her to have a look at your room... Your bed was cold and all your clothes were there..."

Georgiana looked at her feet.

"And since Fitzwiliam was also absent, we concluded that..."

"You went for an early picnic..." concluded Kittie hastily.

"Indeed..." approved Georgiana. "An early picnic..."

"It's just a shame you forgot the basket," added Kittie. "Luckily we found it and were able to catch up with you..."

"Luckily..." smiled Lizzie.

"Indeed..." responded Georgiana.

* * *

They were eating dessert when Mr. Bennet and his brother came upon them.

Not a word was said but glances were exchanged which said enough to give Fitzwilliam the certainty that probably everybody on the estate knew what had happened between him and Elizabeth.

"We leave, Mr. Darcy," said Edward Gardiner. "Sergeant Kennedy has accepted to protect us till London and even beyond should we decide to go to Rosings. Everybody's ready but we would not leave without saying goodbye to the master and mistress of Pemberley."

Fitzwilliam looked at Elizabeth.

She nodded and smiled.

"We were lost in our own little world and I fear we have completely forgotten that you were already leaving."

He helped Elizabeth, Georgiana and Kittie to stand up.

"We're done here. I'll send some servants to collect the things. We will accompany you to the stables. I hope to speak a few words to Charles..."

* * *

They all came to the stables just in time to see Kennedy's men mounting their horses.

Charles who was already amounted dismounted and walked toward Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth.

He bowed to Elizabeth and shook hand with Fitzwilliam.

Elizabeth came near him and kissed the sad young man.

"Good trip, Charles. I hope you'll get another chance with Jane..."

He shook his head.

"I'm no fool, Miss Elizabeth. I've heard who is courting her. If what I know of his cousin is true also with him, I know I stand no chance..."

Elizabeth looked at him with surprise in her eyes.

"Whose cousin? Who are you speaking of? Who is courting Jane?"

She turned towards Fitzwilliam who made a face and smiled at her.

"There was indeed a reason I was looking for you yesterday evening..." His smile became impish. "And than I forgot... Sorry..."

Charles Looked at Fitzwilliam and his eyes showed longing.

"Please tell her when I'm out of sight, Fitzwilliam. I'm sure I won't like her glances when she hears..."

He bowed a last time and turned around and went back to his horse.

Just before he mounted Kittie joined him and handed him a little bag. A few words were exchanged. He looked at the bag, then at her and then smiled.

Ten minutes later all that was reminding them of the group who just went away was the dust cloud and Mrs. Gardiner's tears.

* * *

**Next chapter : Dragon Breath**


	28. Dragon Breath

Where we see that old Dragons never sleep. Sixth day.

* * *

**Chapter 28 Dragon Breath**

* * *

**London, Royal Palace, Monday the tenth of August. **

* * *

"What happened?"

Lieutenant General Fitzwilliam was out of breath and he looked at the private secretary of his Highness with more than apprehension.

Never before had he been summoned so early and with so few explanations.

"He's beside himself. Got an letter from your aunt and since then he is raving in his study. Wants to see you ASAP."

Fitzwilliam sighed. He had been charged with the defense of London and he really did not need his aunt making his direct chief angry.

He went upstairs as fast as he could and was immediately introduced.

"...Ete idiot," His Highness was raving. "If I see him again, I'll shoot him myself. No! I'll crush him against a wall..."

Fitzwilliam took an deep breath and showed himself.

He had survived d'Arcy, he would survive George the future fourth.

"Ha! Fitzwilliam, you're here. What took you so long? I summoned you hours ago."

"I came as soon as possible. Lest I learn to fly I won't be anytime any sooner."

The Prince of Wales looked at him and finally laughed.

"You're not afraid of my wrath, Fitzwilliam?"

"Since I doubt we'll survive the next fortnight, I see no reason to be afraid of a little princely annoyance, Your Highness..."

That last remark brought a burst of laugh out of the Prince of Wales.

"How refreshing! I should have called you at my side years ago. I like your frankness..."

He took a letter on his table and hurled it toward him.

"But then it's a family trait. Read this and give me your opinion."

Fitzwilliam immediately recognized the scripture of his aunt. A very fine and very precise scripture. Not in the least feminine.

The letter had been sent to His Majesty the King George the Third.

He opened it and began to read.

* * *

_Your Majesty,_

_I'm very sorry to have to disturb you, but I fear that nobody within your retinue had found the courage to signal you that our beloved country is taking a beating. The French have disembarked and are raving in South England. They came ashore in Brighton at just the place where all the fashionable people of the Gentry were gathered to lick the boots of your walrus of a son._

* * *

Fitzwilliam could only hide his surprise behind a fit of coughing.

"Ha... You're at the Walrus part... I was sure you would react at this one! Go on, it becomes more interesting..."

Fitzwilliam looked up and tried a defense.

"She's an old woman, Your Highness. It's really not worth to..."

"Go on I said! We have no more time to lose!"

Fitzwilliam took a long breath and went back t the letter.

* * *

_Fortunately for the Kingdom your son's bad eating habits have saved his life and liberty by confining him to bed in London. While his courtiers were awaiting him in Brighton, he was safe at your Palace. You should really insist that he stops his glutton way of life. Even if he is notably brighter than the rest of your brood, his habits make him quite the shame of the Dynasty. _

_But that's not the reason I'm writing you. As you know my late husband was quite a scholar and he shared most of his knowledge with me. Since I'm a woman I was reduced to homely occupations and banned from all responsibilities, that doesn't mean that I'm untrained in matters military. There are few people in England, I suppose, who have more true knowledge of strategy than myself, or a better natural instinct for the tactical lay of the Land. If I had ever had the opportunity, I should have been a great strategist. _

* * *

Fitzwilliam looked at the Prince and could only see his impatience. He went on.

* * *

_In case you do not have been informed by now, let us be clear that we have nothing to put against the invaders. Our troops in Brighton have been swept aside without standing up against the French. If my informants are right, those bloody bastards didn't even lose a squadron. As I write, the French troops are unscathed and in battling order. The only experienced --_if this word can be employed for toy soldiers more accustomed to ride in London streets than on foreign battle fields_-- force we still have, is located in London and will probably be confined there in order to protect you Majesty and all the other members of the Gentry who will be flocking around your son in the fallacious hope he will be able to do something._

_Because it is a fallacious hope, Your Majesty. There's nothing more than can be done here in England and the only way to save your Crown and a part of the Empire is to gather all available troops and sail to some of our oversee dominions where we could rebuild our strength and prepare a counter attack._

* * *

Fitzwilliam could not help but show his surprise. He had defended this exact thesis not once but three times before the Generals of the British General Head Quarter. And three times they had refused.

"I see you got to her advice to gather our things and flee. She does think like you, but let me remind you that she is your only support. Everybody else, including me, believes it would be foolish to leave London and England, so do not take false hope..."

Fitzwilliam bit on what he wanted to say. He had already said it and they hadn't listened. He cursed once more his bloody cousin who had exactly known what he was doing to England when he has organized the escape of these three abysmally idiotic generals.

* * *

_As a matter of fact I would take our troops and riches to Canada where we should remind our insurgent cousins that, even if they have forgotten it, they belong to the Crown and are at your service and calling. With them back under royal rule, we could strike against French America and build a power base which could, with our other possessions, be sufficient to strike back. And such a power base will be necessary since our European allies are all going to lick the Corsican's ass as soon as they learn that we have been invaded. If you have not been already informed, your Majesty, it seems that we are, now, alone and without any chance of help coming from outside the Empire. _

* * *

Fitzwilliam had problems to concentrate. He didn't like his aunt and he was sure that only half of her remarks about the royal family should have earned her a special passage to London Tower, but one thing was sure: her mind was crystal clear and her analysis more than accurate. Nobody in the Prince's retinue had uttered an analysis which was half as proficient.

* * *

_Of course they will regret it since the Corsican swine will eat them for dessert and incorporate their Land in the Empire he will, within a few years, build in Europe. He will call it Empire in order not to shock his revolutionary friends and to overcome the opposition of the remnant of the old aristocracy he is already beginning to gather around him._

_As a proof of this his strategy, let's be known that the commander of the French invasion Force is none other that my nephew Geoffroy d'Arcy d'Arques, present Earl of Arques and as he introduced himself, First Proconsul of the French Republic. Which means that, apart being the heir of one of the oldest French Aristocratic families, he is the fourth dignitary of said Republic. And that the so called Republic will soon show his new Monarchic face. To those who will read this letter whose illiteracy in history and geography is well known, let me remind that Arques is in Normandie which is the part of France where William staged his invasion. _

* * *

Fitzwilliam couldn't help but look at the Prince who was renowned for his lack of knowledge in History and Earth Science. The Prince, immediately, felt the reason for Fitzwilliam's interest.

"Yes, I know, the letter is addressed to me, not my father. Your aunt seems not to like me..."

"It's a rather common trait in those who do not flock around you to lick your arse, Your Highness!"

The Prince of Wales burst out in laugh.

"Fitzwilliam, be careful, your aunt is in French occupied country and I can't get her in the Tower but you are quite at my side and I could decide to throw you into my deepest dungeon..."

"Do it, your Highness. Do it quickly. So I'll have reasons to serve my cousin when he finally beats the crap out of the remnant of your troops and takes London..."

The smile on George's face disappeared.

"You're not funny, Fitzwilliam. You should not mock me..."

"Indeed," said Fitzwilliam who had mocked nobody, "I should not..."

He went back to his reading.

* * *

_I must say that I have known personally young d'Arcy when he came more than twenty five years ago to England to escape the rule of his father, a complete idiot, a womaniser and a real shame for the family. He came at Rosings and Lewis, my husband, and him became real near and he could have become a real British gentleman had the universities be less formalistic and had accepted him even two months after the beginning of the courses. They did not and young d'Arcy decided to go on on his search for knowledge. My husband tried to convince him to stay but he had a few old grudges against our Kingdom since it seems that the Royal Navy insists on sinking d'Arcy admirals. The last one being his grandfather who was the last kind father figure he had encountered he had taken his death rather badly. Lewis and Darcy, Fitzwilliam's grandfather, gave him enough money to go abroad. Last thing I heard about him was his wish to go to the American colonies. It seems that he didn't go to America but took a ship to India and from there to deep Asia._

_It's the last time I heard of him till this morning when he came to give his aunt a call. He was the perfect gentleman and if Fitzwilliam is a handsome young man, I must admit that Geoffrey is a dashing mature man. Well built and muscular he is the image of the perfect Aristocrat. And his retinue of generals is much better than everything you are going to find in this cesspit you call your army._

* * *

Fitzwilliam could only approve.

* * *

_The troops d'Arcy brought with him this morning were numbering five thousands and were under the direct orders of a general Duroc. If one can believe the rumours, Duroc and d'Arcy do not go by very well. Duroc is seen as Napoleon's creature and is said to spy on d'Arcy for his Corsican Master. D'Arcy has him next to him in order to hold him and to look at him. Duroc has a reputation of being a bloodthirsty killer who has a great admiration for Timur Lin. He has shown in Palestine and Syria that he does not hesitate to exterminate the populations of cities who had refused to surrender. It is said that it's Duroc who will be charged with the taking of London. I do confess that I have not followed Napoleon's Egypt and Syria campaigns and that I'm unable to give you the names of the cities Duroc has razed. But I'm sure you could ask one of your generals. With any luck you'll get the answer just before the arrival of Duroc. And if you don't have it by then, you could ask him person to person... Try a colonel or, even better, a lieutenant. Then you'll have the answers within the day._

* * *

Fitzwilliam had heard about Duroc and his methods. He was indeed an adept of razing cities who had not surrendered. And it was an effective way to get the next citizens to force their leaders out of resisting.

* * *

_For the time being, d'Arcy has no interest in taking London. He wants your son to stay there and to call back his troops all around the world. He's sure that he is able to destroy them unit after unit just after they came back. And I'm quite sure he could do it if Your Majesty is foolish enough to send for these troops and call them back. _

_His staff regroups all the generals who fought with Buonaparte in Italy and in Egypt. I know with certainty that Junot, Murat, Lannes, Bessières, Dammartin, Carraffeli, Kellermann and Kléber are present on English soil and that they have armies numbering around five thousands footmen, one thousand cavalry and an artillery regiment._

_D'Arcy himself is overall commander and has the direct command over ten to twelve thousand men who are not called soldiers but "gendarmes" and who are here to garrison the taken cities and to man the forces which have the task to deport the prominent citizens of our Counties. There seem to be a last bunch of forces which are under d'Arcy direct command. They are called "Forces Spéciales" or Special Forces and I have discovered nothing about them since d'Arcy never speaks about them. The only sure thing is that Duroc hates them and believes they are a danger for himself and Buonaparte. He also believes that d'Arcy wants his death and the throne of France. _

* * *

Fitzwilliam couldn't help but look up and search his prince's eyes. They just received the first accurate report of the invader's armies.

"Impressing, isn't it?" said the Prince of Wales. "This aunt of yours has a better spy ring than myself. She got more information out of troops that were occupying her estate than all the men I sent out to gather everything they could get on the French." He shook his head. "And this letter arrived yesterday and my chamberlain, after having looked at the first paragraph had discounted it as non important... Had my secretary not find it amusing I would never had it in my hands..."

He sighed.

"At what part are you?"

"Duroc and the part with the throne of France..."

"Well, now comes a part I want you to study especially well. I will ask for your opinion immediately after you finished..."

Fitzwilliam nodded and got on.

* * *

_I do hope that what I just sent you will corroborate intelligence you got out of other sources. For more you'll have to use your own spies. I have especially no information about their battle plan since my nephew refused to hold his meetings inside my manor. Perhaps, at some point, you'll get lucky and will be able to infiltrate one of your men into his retinue. There could be a possibility which aroused here in Rosings. My nephew while here at Rosings encountered a young woman, daughter of gentleman farmer of the Hertfortshire Gentry. It seems that she let quite an impression on him since, while here on my estate, he was quite often seen in her company. She could be the opening you need to have an eye and an ear within the enemy camp. She's named Jane Bennet and seems intelligent enough to understand what her position near d'Arcy could mean for England. She springs out of a family with very mercenary instincts which should give you an easy opening to get her to agree. She's here in Rosings with two of her sisters. She lives at my parson's cottage. He is the last priest for miles around and I do believe that he is still here because d'Arcy knew he was Miss Bennet's cousin and as such he refused to deport him like everybody else of the Gentry and Clergy to make her a favor._

_I do hope you learned that the French are deporting Gentry and Clergy, didn't you? Let me just add that d'Arcy claims it to be to split our people from their natural leaders and to instill terror into our ruling class pushing them into gathering their belongings and fleeing. I fear more and more that he is right on that last point. I, for my part, will stay!_

_Catherine de Bourgh._

* * *

Fitzwilliam looked up and gave the letter back to the Prince of Wales.

"And?" asked George.

"And what?"

"What do we do with this Miss Bennet?"

"What about Miss Bennet?"

The Prince of Wales looked to the heaven.

"God, Fitzwilliam, stay with me! What do we plan to get this Miss Bennet here?"

Fitzwilliam make a face.

"Why should we plan anything? She had done nothing to be subjected to arrest. It's not yet a crime in England to be courted by a man... Or is it now?"

The Prince looked at his aide.

"Nobody's speaking of arresting her. And if it isn't a crime to be courted by the enemy commander in chief, it is an opportunity we, the defender of the Crown, have to grasp."

He raised his left eyebrow.

"You wouldn't happen to know her?"

Fitzwilliam frowned at his Prince.

"No I don't know Miss Bennet. I have had the pleasure to meet her sister and for what I know, all my aunt said of her family is pure slander..."

"That's not what's important here! What's important is that d'Arcy has met her and seems interested in her." He looked at Fitzwilliam with suspicious eyes. "You know Rosings, don't you?"

Fitzwilliam took a few seconds to think about the implications of his answer. He decided a _yes_ was the right answer.

"I do! I spent years there with Fitzwilliam Darcy."

"Well, then take enough men to go in and come out and get me this young Lady within this Palace. And the sooner the better."

"She's not alone there..."

"Bring everybody. I want this d'Arcy to believe that we know everything about him. Including his courting. Perhaps he will be upset enough to make a mistake and come to us. This Miss Bennet will be our perfect bait!"

* * *

**Next chapter: Hunsford Confidences**


	29. Hunsford Confidences

Where we spy on father and daughter. Sixth day.

* * *

**Chapter 29 Hunsford confidences**

* * *

**Kent, Rosings Park, Monday the tenth of August.**

* * *

"Hello? Somebody at home?"

Jane jumped out of her daydreams and looked at her father who was making silly signs with the fingers of his right hand...

"Awaken?"

Jane shook her head.

"I wasn't asl..."

Edward Bennet came closer and took his daughter's hand and placed a kiss on her palm.

"I know, dear. I know you weren't asleep. It was just my last attempt at humor while seeing you drifting away in the middle of a conversation..."

She looked at the floor.

"Sorry, Papa. I don't know what's happening to me. I really have problems concentrating on what people are saying around me."

Mr. Bennet made a sign with his hand inviting his daughter to come to sit in his lap.

She looked at him bright eyed and rather shocked.

"Papa, I fear I'm no longer..."

"Of the right age?" concluded Mr. Bennet. "I fear you are right but that has nothing to do with age. It's an old father-daughter trick. The father of a perturbed little girl always takes her in his lap and hold her against him the time necessary to give her a chance to overcome her big sadness."

He tapped on the arm of his armchair.

"And when said papa sits comfortably in a deep armchair the best way to hold said daughter in his arms is for her to come to sit in his lap..."

He could not help but chuckle.

"And let's use your cousin's absence to do so. I'm quite sure he would be even more shocked than you..."

Jane shook her head and came nearer to sit in her father's lap.

"Myyyy..." said he loudly.

Jane was immediately again on her feet. She looked at her father who shot her a apologetic smile.

"Seems you were right. Age has something to do with old fathers not taking her adult daughters in their lap. I had not rightly appraise the difference in weight between a ten year old girl and a twenty two year old beautiful woman..."

He shot her another smile when she handsomely blushed.

"My knees knew immediately..."

He gave her his hand and she helped him to stand up.

"Well, since this peculiar pleasure is no longer in my grasp, let's have a walk together. It has been a long time..."

"Yesterday?"

"Exactly, a long time ago..."

* * *

A hundred yards away from the Parsonage, they hadn't spoken two words.

"Well, what are the conclusion my little girl is playing with..."

She looked up.

"Please, papa, don't call me your little girl. I'm a grown woman, now."

"That you are dear, but even as a grown woman you're still my little baby. That part of you will never change. Perhaps if, one day in the near future, you should decide to flood me under dozens of chatty blue eyed blond children, I will no longer have the time to remember the little girl who was my baby, but for now there's only you, dear..."

He took her arm and pulled her on the path going toward the "Rotonde" where Lizzie had refused her future husband for the first time.

"We are all children, dear. I, I'm at an age where I long to be one again and you, you are at that awful age where one has only one wish: forget those early years where everybody was giving orders, shouting at you and looking at you from sunrise to sunset..."

He patted her hand.

"But please, let this old man take pleasure in his last dreams..."

Jane looked at him with worry in her eyes.

"Papa, you're not..."

"No, no, don't worry. I'm perfectly healthy and I won't depart before having had a real chance to spoil at least two generations of Darcys..."

She looked at him and he saw with great pleasure that there was mirth in her eyes.

"How do you spell Darcy?"

"No idea, dear. I suppose it's not yet sure..."

He looked around them and gave a joyful yell to the surrounding forest.

"It reminds me of the last time I walked with a Beautiful woman at my arm in a setting just like this one. I was thirty, just coming back from America and my red coat and my rank had been an irresistible call for the young woman at my side..."

He shook his head.

"I can't believe it that I was so young and foolish and self important..."

"Papa, that's not..."

He stopped her with a finger on her lips and a self satisfied smile.

"Please do me the favor to let me bask in the pleasure to walk at the side of the most beautiful, adorable and compassionate creature of this earth. It's a real blessing, believe me..."

He chuckled.

"Don't you dare believe that your parents had ever been responsible human beings. Quite the contrary. Your mother believed me dashing! Can you believe it? And I was very happy she could see such qualities in me who was drowning in doubts and self loathing..."

He exhaled a long, very long sigh.

"Even if it's difficult to believe, at one day in their life your parents were young and foolish and very much in love. And what's more they were very much unable to think about what the future would be a year or two from then."

He shook himself out of his memories and smiled at his daughter.

"And I must confess that I was not the most faithful in our relation..."

Seeing his daughter's wide eyes he immediately shook his head.

"No, that's not what I mean. I never betrayed her! Not after our marriage but there is a betrayal which was previous to our wedding. I married her out of very bad reasons, dear. I don't say that I didn't love her. I loved her for her beauty and I loved her for the unfathomable way she found me dashing and lovely..." He breathed out heavily. "But deep in me, I was loving another woman. And I'm sure that background was the foremost reason for our later estrangement..."

He stopped his daughter's words before she could utter them.

"You're so full of doubts, dear. At your age you feel the need to be admired, to be seducing and unique. You're just coming out of a period where you have always been under the authority of somebody else. You have to fly out of the nest and to state your uniqueness."

He saw a fallen log and steered her toward it.

"I need a few minutes rest, dear. And I need to feel you at my side. We'll walk on in a few minutes..."

When they were sitting she came back with the question she was about to ask a few minutes earlier.

"Who was she?"

"Her name was Caroline and her brother could not accept that she loved me. That we loved each other. He separated us and married her away to Sweden. She died a few years later. I hope she didn't die of unhappiness..."

He shook his head.

"I soon afterwards married your mother. She was thinking the world of me and I was so in need of love that I let myself be convinced that her love would be enough for the both of us..."

"Was it not?"

Once more he shook his head.

"I fear not, dear... But soon I had something else to love and that something was a someone. A blond haired blue eyed someone who was able to bring me joy with only a little dribble besmirched smile. I was spending hours holding you and asking myself how such a unworthy pair could have been able to produce such a perfect little creature... I was quite besotted."

He looked at his daughter's eyes.

They were the same color as his wife's. They had even the same shape. But they were so different, so unique.

And not only Jane's.

When had been the last time he had looked at his wife's eyes?

Those eyes who stayed so much longer young and beautiful?

He couldn't remember.

"She was probably not the best choice I could have made. But she was the girl who had the more determination to get me. And, in the hindsight, I now know that that's worth a lot. She had this talent to let me know with a wink that I was at the center of her universe..."

He looked at the sky.

"And God knows how much that's really worth..."

While speaking pieces of the puzzle of his life were coming together.

He had enjoyed being with his wife.

Really enjoyed it in a very refreshing way.

Before meeting with her he had had drama and tragedy and he had lived a shattering love story.

All he wanted with his new family was living a normal pleasurable life. And she had given him all she could. With the result of multiple births.

His wife had been very often pregnant and it was all his doing.

Having always another baby to feed and care for, she had been more than happy to let him take charge of Jane and Lizzie's education.

And he has done it with dedication. They were so smart, so open...

Not like...

He stopped himself immediately.

He had played this tune for too long. His wife was not the idiot he envisioned so often. No, she had another sort of intelligence. An intelligence of the heart and he, the smart scholar, had never even tried to understand her.

He, her husband, had never even tried to teach her what he could have taught. He could have made her a better woman and a better educated wife. He could have.

He never went to the trouble to make her more like what he was idealizing in his mind.

He had just decided that there was nothing to be done. That she was a lost battle.

Shame came on him...

Because she could have brought something to his two elders. As _he_ could have brought something to his three youngest. But she didn't and he didn't and so he was saddled with two perfect but shy and serious ladies and two imperfect but open and joyous girls. And with Mary who had had to pay the price of both her parents' guilt...

He felt his daughter's hand sliding into his'.

He smiled at her.

"I was so egoistic in these early months of our marriage. All I wanted was to enjoy my new life."

He smiled ant his eldest daughter and winked at her.

"What I'm going to confess, I ask the right to confess it myself to each and every one of my daughters. You are not allowed to speak of it to anybody! Do we agree?"

She nodded and he could read in her eyes that she would keep his secret.

"It seems that your mother and I were quite in a hurry to be wed..."

Jane's lips made a doubtful grimace.

"I do swear it, dear. You were probably already on the way the day the priest gave us his holy permission to go on to be fruitful and to multiply..." He squeezed her hand and began to pull faces to bring her out of her sad mood. "And I must say that for a first try we were much more successful than I dared to hope..."

"Papa! You're not serious..."

"And you are way too serious, dear. And your mother could have learned you to be a little more open and a little less serious..."

"I do like me as I am, papa..."

"And since you are quite perfect, I'm very happy you do, dear, but there is this little flaw who prevents you to show your feelings..."

"But it would be unseemly, papa, to show my feelings! A real Lady c..."

He stopped her with a powerful "_tsk tsk tsk_"!

"Here, we are leaving the field of theoretical conveniences to enter into the field of real life. And to be more precise, the life of a certain Jane Bennet! And if Jane Bennet has been sad and lonely and unhappy these last few months, it's only because I have been unable to teach her how to show her feelings to those important people who needed to know!"

He squeezed once more her hands.

"There is no discussion that a well bred young Lady will never show to her cousin that he is a loathsome piece of self righteous priggishness!"

"Papa!"

"Not to speak of the King of all fools!"

He smiled at her frown.

"That, of course, we will never do! Even if our cousin is as dumb as he looks and that he probably would be unable to spot a mockery _we_ could send his way..."

She scolded him silently and he made a show of displaying some remorse.

"But, when we come to those highly positive feelings, such as love and admiration, than it is clearly necessary that even the most well bred young Lady takes on her to let them known to the person she feels for!"

He stopped her before she could speak.

"Don't deny that your concealing of your feelings has brought you only sadness and despair. Having a seemly behavior is in no way a guarantee against a broken heart. And even if I still do believe that a little heart ache is good for the building of one's personality, it's not necessary to create one from scratch when it is evident that it is useless..."

Jane took a deep breath and looked at the myriad of insects which were populating the log.

For two days now she was wondering.

What would have happened if she had shown her feelings?

What would have happened if she had shown to Charles Bingley that, for her, he was the perfect _he_?

Would he have shown contempt or would he have been happy?

Would he have fled or would he have built on her opening to show such same feelings?

"I'm not unaware that you're are shy, dear. And that it's difficult for you to know where convenience ends and lack of consideration begins. But in matter of the heart it's vital to show a part of your feelings even at the risk of being inconsiderate."

She looked at him bitting her lips.

"I fear I'm too old to change, I'm..."

"Tsk, tsk, tsk! Only old knees and rheumatism are unchangeable. For the rest, one can always become better. And I do not ask for a complete change in personality, I just ask for a little courage in order to let _him_ know that you are interested in _him_..."

"I really do not know how to do such a thing... I would stutter and hesitate and..."

Her father put a finger under her chin and pushed upwards. When they looked each other in the eyes he smiled at her.

"Then stutter and hesitate, but do it nevertheless. Just say what you have to say. When he is about to leave let him know that you regret his departure and that, while he was with you, you never felt the time pass. And show him when he returns with a bright smile that you're happy to be with him again..."

He tipped her on the nose.

"And from then it goes on crescendo..."

"Papa!"

"Indeed crescendo!" insisted he just before pulling his daughter against him and speaking into her ear.

"You must be aware that a great passion must be shown. I know you spoke about your feelings for Mr. Bingley with Lizzie but that's not enough." he winked at her. "You should have chosen Lydia, dear!" He felt her shudder." Yes! Lydia! She would have informed him immediately that you were interested in him. And it would have been much better for everybody!"

He hugged her.

"Use the resources you have at hand, dear. If you want something to be known, use Lydia, or Lady Lucas, or your aunt Philips. You wouldn't have to speak at all and the whole County would know about your feelings before the end of the day!"

He saw her blush.

"Or even better, whisper to him. You have no idea how it concentrates a suitor's mind to hear you whisper. And show him with smiles and glances that you are comfortable in his company. That his company is the reason you are well..."

He chuckled sadly.

"You wouldn't imagine how many people are unsure and full of hesitation about their value. On the outside they look full of confidence and courage, but inside they are full of self doubts. Even your Bingley..."

She corrected her father immediately.

"He's not my Bingley..."

She had done it before but this time it had nothing to do with conveniences and consideration. It was just because he perhaps was no longer _her_ Bingley...

Was he? Or was he no more?

"Papa, I don't know what to do. I have feelings for both of them and I really have no idea how to disentangle those feelings of mine..."

Mr. Bennet looked at his daughter with surprise in his heart but only interest in his eyes.

That his Jane had found the courage to ask him that question was proof enough that she had a real problem with her feelings.

He could have laughed but he forced himself to stay calm and relaxed.

A laugh would have destroyed everything he had just been able to build with his daughter.

And since he had an easy answer...

"There, you will need a pinch of 'savoir-faire'," said he. "It is not totally a surprise that one of the most beautiful women of England would be besieged by more than one suitor..."

He was very pleased to see her blush. How had she been able to remain as fresh and naive in that her corrupt society? At twenty two? He and his wife had perhaps not been the best of teachers but as guardians they had done a rather satisfying job.

"As I said, use the resources you have at hand. Let Lydia pass around the news that you have now two suitors. She already knows and you know as well as I that she will be unable to hold her tongue."

Jane looked shocked.

"What will they believe of me? They will..."

"Know that they have no right to believe you theirs! And that they will have to conquer you..."

He hugged her.

"You'll see they will be even more outspoken in their admiration for you..."

"I'll have to fend of d'Arcy with a stick if he becomes just a little more explicit," smiled Jane.

Here, he granted himself a good laugh.

That she could smile and joke was a first great victory.

The next battle was Jane's only. She would have to choose, to decide which of those young men she was ready to accept at her side for the rest of her life.

He hoped Bingley had still his chances.

With him he would never lose his precious Jane. She would settle at twenty miles from Pemberley and the whole tribe of Darcy and Bingley children would be in Bingley's House being spoiled by a very happy and busy grandfather.

With d'Arcy...

Who knew with d'Arcy?

* * *

**Next chapter: Hunsford Abduction  
**


	30. Hunsford Abduction

The cavalry arrives in Hunsford.

* * *

**Chapter 30: Hunsford Abduction**

* * *

**Kent, Hunsford parsonage, seventh day**

* * *

"Sergeant!"

Kervadec opened his eyes and squeezed them immediately.

It was still night and he should not have been awoken before sunrise.

And it was Kennedy's voice.

Problems for sure...

"What's up?"

"Horse guards, between eighty and a hundred. They are coming through the woods. Seems to me they have a local guide. They are using paths we didn't even knew. We have nobody in place in numbers great enough to stop them..."

Kervadec stood up and got his bags.

His orders were clear! Stop if possible, follow and report if not.

He could have taken fifty but a hundred was way too much. Not if he wanted to protect his ward.

"We quit. I want everybody out of here in ten minutes, horses and all. We take the hole in the wall at the North West corner. Nobody should be able to see us. They are surely coming here and I don't want a firefight in the vicinity of the house. Let's pass the message that I await everybody at the great gray oak tree. They'll take them to London, we will follow..."

"Everybody is already awake. We are ready to move."

"Then, let's move..."

* * *

"We saw nobody," whispered captain Maddows. "They marched on..."

_Let's hope_, thought Richard Fitzwilliam._ If they catch us on foot in these woods, we'll lose eighty percent of our men_.

"Don't be too sure. They are here since Wednesday, ample time to build fox holes and tree seats. I'm quite sure they have already seen us. We are hopefully too numerous to be easily eliminated. They'll have orders to limit the firefights on the estate..."

"How far away?"

"Ten minutes and we will be at the gates of the parsonage. I want most of the troopers left behind in the woods with you. I'll take five men and we'll advance without the horses till the back entrance. I know a way that will bring us there without showing too much of us... When everybody's ready to move I'll give you a lamp signal from the left upper western window. Three brief flashes and you'll come. One flash and you'll retreat. No flash within the next half hour and you do what you deem necessary."

He heard the captain gulp. Like all the officers of the Horse guards he was the dashing image of a red coat. But, like the others, he had no real combat experience.

"We will be await your signal..."

* * *

There had been a noise in the kitchen.

It happened that one of the French guards came in to grab something to eat but they rarely took so much precautions.

These ones were slow and stealthy.

Charlotte looked at her husband and smiled. Once asleep, nothing could awake him save hits or a water canteen.

She stood up and put on her house coat.

She had a pistol but she decided not to take it.

If they had passed the French they would be much too powerful for one lonely bullet to take them out. And if it was a stealthy stealing Frenchman, a broom would be a much more effective weapon.

She tiptoed down the stairs and opened the door to the kitchen.

She hadn't opened it more than an inch when it was pulled out of her grip and a powerful hand crushed her mouth.

"Please not a word," said a voice she recognized immediately. "You are safe with us..."

She stood still and awaited the next orders.

"Nod if you accept not to shout..."

She nodded.

The hand disappeared immediately.

"Sorry Mrs. Collins, I had no choice..."

"Colonel, what about the French?"

"What French? We saw no French..."

"There are two dozens of them living in our outbuildings... We are under heavy guard since they passed through Rosings."

"They must have spotted us and left the parsonage," said Fitzwilliam. "We are quite a lot in the immediate surroundings. They were probably loath to risk a firefight."

Chalotte chuckled.

"He would not take it pleasantly if something happened to her..."

She looked Fitzwilliam into the eyes.

"I hope you're not here to harm her, Colonel, because it would be a very bad idea and not only for the authors of said harm..."

"It's _General_ now and of course we're not here to harm her. The Prince regent would like her to stay in London. He hopes that my cousin will be more inclined to open negotiations if she is in our custody..."

"It's not my business, but playing the hostage game is not a good idea. He has lots more than you and his numbers are increasing daily..."

Fitzwilliam shook his head.

"We're not playing the hostage game," lied he. "We hope he will come to get her..."

"Than it's the bait game and it is as foolish as the other one. He has most of the best cards in his hand, you should not upset him. She could be our best chance to get to him some day. Trying his patience seems not to be the best strategy to me..."

Fitzwilliam made a face.

"As you said it's none of your business and it's even none of mine. I have very precise orders and I fear I have no other choice than to obey. She's coming to London and the rest of her family will come with her..."

He made a sign and a sergeant came carrying two bags.

"Please bring these clothes to them and ask them to dress. We have horses in enough numbers and we go back to London as soon as they are ready." He tried a shy smile. "Please do convey them that we rare here to protect them and not to harass them. If they could accept without being informed that they have no real choice, it would be even better..."

Charlotte took the two bags.

"I'll see what I can do."

* * *

Edward Bennet was a light sleeper and his old training had kicked in the day he mounted his horse at Kervadec's side. And if there was one thing an old soldier never forgets, it's to feel when something is ajar in his environment.

And something was definitely not normal.

He stood up, dressed with all the speed of years of training and was on the stairs with his two pistols in hands when Charlotte came back carrying two bags.

"They finally came?"

"Yes," agreed Charlotte. "Horse guards under the command of a General. Fitzwilliam Darcy's cousin by the way..."

"Oh, he sent family," chuckled Mr. Bennet. "What a kind gesture of His Highness..."

Charlotte made a gesture to show the kitchen.

"They are half a dozen and in full uniform. There's probably half an army outside..."

"Probably," agreed Mr. Bennet. "Or our friend Kervadec would have mad known his displeasure. Thank God for sergeants and smart officers who know how an army is run..."

"I'll wake the Girls," said Charlotte. "It should take a few minutes..."

Mr. Bennet bowed.

"Since we are probably going to London very soon, please accept my thanks for your hospitality, Mrs. Collins. You were the most attentive of guests."

"I was my pleasure," curtsied Charlotte. "I hope you'll do your best with your high connections to get my husband a bishopric..."

He smiled and she could see the mirth in his eyes even in the darkness.

"As a Christian it's my duty to do everything in my power to save his flock from boredom, Mrs. Collins. You can count on me..."

She crutsied again.

"I knew you were a gentleman, Mr. Bennet."

"We do what we can, my dear Charlotte, we do what we can..."

* * *

"General?"

Fitzwilliam looked up and turned toward the new voice.

He stood up and bowed.

"Don't search them, you won't find them," said the newcomer pointing to the window where Richard Fitzwilliam was just searching the night. "They are experienced scouts and if they let you through they are probably already preparing the trap you'll fall in on your way to London..."

"You're quite the cheery gentleman, Sir..."

Mr. Bennet bowed.

"Edward Bennet, General. I'm very satisfied that His Majesty has sent a General to get my daughter. I would have surrendered her to nothing less..."

"I'm Richard Fitzwilliam and it happens that I spent a part of my youth on this estate. I'm here because of my area knowledge not because of my rank."

"Than it's a happy coincidence... You have the rank to get her from me and you have the knowledge to get her around the trap the French will probably mount to get her back..."

Fitzwilliam shot a worried look to his soldiers who suddenly were very attentive to what the old man had to say.

"You really believe so?"

"No idea," lied Mr. Bennet. "Depends probably on how numerous you are and how you intend to hide my daughter in the mass of your soldiers..."

Mr. Bennet was quite satisfied with the little blush that came on the general's cheeks.

"Hide is not the word I would use, Mr. Bennet. A well thought strategy wants us to make every effort to spoil the plans of our enemies. If they do not know who's who, they will probably renounce to try to get her back..."

Mr. Bennet made a face.

"Or you could get her killed..."

"I'm sure they have orders not to take any risk with her safety..."

"And clearly that's not one of your orders..."

"Quite the contrary, Mr. Bennet. My orders are very clear. She's to be in London as soon as possible and she has to be there safe and sound..."

"That's the theory! We will see what happened on the road."

He looked at the window.

"Is the rest of the family invited or are we ordered to stay behind?"

"My orders include all the Bennet sisters, Mr Bennet. And of course I wouldn't want to separate a father from his daughters..."

He smiled at Mr. Bennet.

"Could I ask if your daughter Elizabeth is well and in good health?"

Mr. Bennet frowned at the officer facing him.

""I do believe she's well, General. I can't be sure since she was in Derbyshire these last weeks and in Pemberley since last Wednesday..."

The General couldn't help but show his surprise.

"In Pemberley, at Fitzwilliam's home?"

"Indeed, and if she's accepted this time, they should be betrothed now. It seems that this month is a month where the Bennet daughters are even more beautiful then before..."

He pointed upstairs.

"If you want to try your luck, Mary and Lydia are, I suppose, still free to be courted."

Lost in his pun, Mr. Bennet did not see the slight disappointment that covered the face of Richard Fitzwilliam for a fraction of a second.

"Fitzwilliam and Miss Elizabeth? What a surprise... I would never have guessed that those two were sharing feelings."

"Neither would I, General. I received the news end of last week. It seems that the impending war has given those two a better understanding of each other's feelings. I do not have an official confirmation but they should be betrothed by now."

At this very moment there was a commotion in the stairs and a few seconds later Lydia came bursting in the kitchen. She was wearing trousers and a red coat and a smile was splitting her face.

"Papa, look at me! I'm a soldier now! I'm wearing trousers..."

Her father look at her and could only accept the assessment.

"Indeed you look like a soldier. But I fear you're far from being a soldier..."

He looked at the General.

"You know each other, I do believe?"

"Indeed, Papa, I met col... General Fitzwilliam in Brighton."

She came nearer and took the General's hands.

"What a pleasure to see that you have escaped, General. And congratulations for your new rank. It must have been a very difficult evasion... You must have fought like devils to get out of d'Arcy's hands..."

Once more Fitzwillian couldn't help but blush.

Indeed it had been a fantastic evasion but only because it was staged by the enemy commander himself. Nothing heroic in that exploit...

"We did the best we could, Miss Lydia. We were helped by... hmmm... Unusual circumstances."

Lydia came nearer.

"You wouldn't have news about Lieutenant Wickham, General? I lost track of him the day before the invasion and I feared that he could have been killed defending the beach. Wasn't he the one officer responsible for the line of defense..."

"That he was, Miss Lydia," answered Fitzwilliam trying not to greet his teeth. "He came out of the battle unscathed and in good health. He was one of those who helped our three most famous generals to escape... Got a new rank and an estate for his exploits..."

The last part came only with difficulty.

Lydia did not get the unsaid message.

"Wickham is alive, Wickham is alive..." danced she around the kitchen. "Dear Wickham is alive..."

The dance would probably have continued but for the irruption of the second Bennet daughter.

"Papa, it can't be! I's unseemly! Never will I accept to show me in..."

Mary stopped when she saw that her father was surrounded by half a dozen soldiers.

She blushed and retreated immediately.

And was replaced by Jane equally wearing trousers and an red coat...

She looked at Fitzwilliam, flashed him an apologetic smile and went out to run after Mary.

The General could only stare, open mouthed, at the kitchen door.

"My eldest," mocked Mr. Bennet. "Jane. You did not yet know her I presume?"

After a few second of gasping, Richard Fitzwilliam was, at last, able to think clearly.

"No I didn't and I regret it indeed..."

Mr. Bennet could not help bu chuckle.

"As I said, this month my daughters are particularly handsome. But I fear you just came a few days late..."

"So do I," sighed Fitzwilliam. "Had I known that Elizabeth's sister was even more Beautiful than her, I would have stormed your house with my men, Mr. Bennet..."

Mr. Bennet accepted the compliment with a little bow.

"And it would have been worth the assault, General. Now I really do fear that this peculiar stronghold has already been taken and taken by a Master in his craft."

Fitzwilliam sighed once more.

"Even more reason to bring her to London as soon as possible. A man who is able, in the same week, to take half of England and his most precious treasure, is a dangerous man indeed."

He made a sign to his sergeant.

"Go upstairs and signal to the captain. We are underway within the next ten minutes..."

Lydia was immediately at his side.

"Will we also get one of those lovely silver helmets? Those with the black long hairs?"

"I fear not, we only have bearskins with us..."

"What? Those ugly things who sprout out of your heads?"

"Indeed, Miss Lydia! But it will give you the possibility to look really like a soldier. And looking like soldiers will give us the opportunity to take all necessary short cuts. We will be in a hurry and we will probably be forced to go through very unseemly quarters of London. Quarters no well bred young girl would ever have the chance to visit..." He looked at Mr. Bennet. "I apologize in advance, Mr. Bennet..."

Lydia didn't hesitate a second more, she took the cap, bent forward, stashed her hair in the cap and stood up to adjust it.

"I'm ready, we can go," said she with sparkling eyes.

* * *

**Next chapter: Night whispers**


	31. Night Whispers

The "guests" on their way to London.

* * *

**Chapter 31: Night whispers**

* * *

**From Kent to London, seventh day**

* * *

They were riding through the dark countryside and Richard Fitzwilliam was, even he didn't show it, more than anxious to be back in English controlled country.

Even if, right now, nobody was probably able to show him the border between French and English occupied land.

He sensed an unknown presence at his side.

"Mr. Bennet..."

"General..."

There were a few minutes silence which made Fitzwilliam nervous. He couldn't help but ask the first question.

"You were army?"

"Horse guards. Twenty five years back..."

"Thought it, you mount like one of us..."

"Meaning a peacock in a saddle?"

That pushed Fitzwilliam over the line. He laughed.

"Indeed, that part also!"

They laughed discreetly together.

"Why did you quit?"

That brought another laugh.

"Strange how the same circumstances bring out the same topics... What gave you the hint?"

"You're younger than a few generals of my acquaintance. If you hadn't quit, you would probably be in the same circle..."

"Not quite," answered Mr. Bennet. "Not enough money nor nobility in the Bennet branch of the Gentry. I had no chance from the beginning to ever even consider being one day the stuff of a general." He smiled. "Others had better chances. And if you're speaking about Wolcott and Bryan, these two I knew. They were captains when I was a lieutenant. And I did believe they should never have exceeded the rank of lieutenant... Since they got their following ranks with speed and without making a din, I could only conclude that to become a general one must be dumb like a stone. So, to get over that disillusion, I concluded that I was way too intelligent to ever be granted a rank over colonel."

He chuckled.

"You owe your present rank to d'Arcy, isn't it so? He pushed you in the right direction?"

Fitzwilliam glanced at his "guest".

"How could you know such a thing..."

"Lydia spoke of how you were captured. And I heard the story of your fantastic rescue of our finest generals. When I heard the names of said finest generals, I knew he gave us them back. And since you climbed from colonel to general in the very near past, some conclusions sprang into my mind... Am I wrong?"

Fitzwilliam couldn't deny.

"I have no proof but I'm myself very suspicious. Anneley, Wolcott and Bryan, the three "fine" generals have done more to paralyze our side that twenty of his armies."

"That's the way very clever strategists think. Winning without ever going into battle! That's a tactic he seems to use very well..."

"You seem to admire him..."

"Why shouldn't I? He has the good taste to find my eldest daughter worthy of his courting. Even should he be vanquished during this campaign -which I seriously doubt- he's still a very powerful and wealthy man. If my daughter wants him, I'll gladly surrender to her wishes..."

He looked at his neighbour and smiled.

"Why should I be scandalized? He never tried anything to convince her to act unseemly and, for what I know, he always acted in the best gentlemanly manner with her."

He exhaled soundly.

"All commanders in chief cannot say the same thing... Not even in the army of His Majesty. I was stationed in our American colonies during the insurrection. My direct commander has never been too worried about the willingness of the young girls he was "inviting" in his quarters... And at that time, they were still subjects of the same Majesty than him..."

He went back to the subject at hand.

"He was the new master of the Land and nobody could have saved my daughter's virtue if he had decided to act like a rogue. He didn't and from what my daughter's told me, he did everything in his power to show his respect and his good manners."

He nodded.

"So yes, I can only admire a man who, with absolute power at his disposition, is still able to act like a decent creature..."

"He is invading our country and deporting the members of the Gentry and the Clergy..."

"That I do know, General. And I believe that last part of his strategy is a smart move. It wouldn't have been if the Gentry and most of the Clergy would have had the support of the people. But as it seems not to be the case, removing the political and religious leaders from the equation gives him the advantage to force said people to search new leaders. And those leaders will soon know that their positions will only stand while the old leaders are out of the Land..."

He turned toward Richard Fitzwilliam.

"What side are these leaders going to support? What do you think, general?"

"They cannot choose the outsiders against their own British leaders..."

"Can they not?" Mr. Bennet shook his head. "I'd like to have your certainty, general. For my part, I doubt it very much that they feel themselves ready to stand by those who where nothing but people who took a part of what they produced to live better then themselves..."

"That's not universally true. A lot of Land owners are respectful and human people."

"Yes, and so am I, general. But with the correct argumentation, even I would pass for a lazy selfish person exploiting the work of my tenants. If somebody malicious looks at what I do the whole year long, he could very well conclude that I do nothing but spend the money my tenants have trouble gathering for me."

"But they use your land..."

"Indeed, they live on the land I own. And because I'm the owner, it seems that I get a better share than _them _who work all day long to make the land fruitful. Do you really believe that all of my tenants would be deaf to arguments that point up my laziness compared to their workload? Especially if I'm no longer there to bring up counter arguments?"

"I cannot believe it. We are treating our tenants very well..."

"Are we really, general? Are we all treating our tenants so very well? What about our Irish tenants? What about our Scottish tenants? What about Count Fairfax's tenants?"

"He is not the best figure head to show off..."

"That's why d'Arcy will use _his _tenants first. They will jump on the occasion to make their master pay his greed and his malevolence. And with them he'll have the example he needs. No, general, in this game, d'Arcy is onto a sure thing if he plays the right cards."

"You speak as if this invasion would only be a game..."

"If he acts wisely, it will appear so. A game between two groups of rulers who, in the eyes of the poor people are quite the same. The people won't feel the same threat as the Gentry. They will see themselves as bystanders looking at a duel between rich and idle landowners. They will just look at the match and hope that the winner will give them more from the pie..."

"And they already know what the old landowners were ready to part with..."

"Exactly my point general! If he acts wisely and is able to hold back his troops and let the poor in peace, he'll win their heart in less than a year."

"But troops are rarely easy to be held. There will be exactions..."

"I haven't heard of any, general. And they are here for more than a week... You were in Kent, have you seen the roads? Were there thousands of refugees fleeing North?"

"I must concede, there were none on the roads we followed..."

"And what do you conclude?"

"There were no exactions..."

"Exactly... People flee with their meager possessions when they are scared. That they do no flee shows us that they are not scared..."

"They could be dead..."

That draw out a laugh.

"Nice try, but you'll have to find some better arguments to make people believe that. You know as well as I that there are always survivors and survivors talk... Always..."

"We could mount a fraud with false witnesses who tell lies on what is happening behind the front."

"That you could but if one of your "agent provocateur" gets ever caught and tells the truth, nothing will save the image of the Crown..."

Fitzwilliam could only nod. He couldn't and he wouldn't do it.

He sighed. And decided to change the subject.

"So what was your rank?"

"Major. To the day when I was pushed out... I was probably already very near to the best rank I could get..."

"You never had regrets?"

"Every day till the birth of Jane. Afterwards, I was quite satisfied with my new job as a father. That stopped a few years later and then I was just unsatisfied and nothing else. It seems this present crisis has given me new reasons to be alive and happy about it..."

"How do you see our future?"

Mr. Bennet looked at the general.

"You really want an answer to that one?"

Fitzwilliam shook his head. No he didn't want an answer to this one.

He new that, if d'Arcy wasn't a fool and didn't fall into the trap the Prince would lay, they would be beaten.

And even if d'Arcy fell into their hands. What would stop Duroc? Or Murat? Or Lannes? They were already here and they wouldn't quit because d'Arcy was a prisoner.

_And he is not yet a prisoner_!

"What are you going to do with Jane?"

Fitzwilliam sighed once more. He had feared that precise question.

_What are we going to do with her_?

He had no idea. He knew that the Prince of Wales had lots of flaws. Using an innocent young woman as bait was only one of them. He would do much worse if he believed it would stop d'Arcy.

But since it probably wouldn't, he would stay on the safer side of princely behavior.

"I have no idea," confessed he. "She will probably have to stay at the Palace where we will organize a trap..."

"What if _he_ does not like the idea?"

"He'll probably have some bad reactions..."

"Lots of people could have to pay the bill."

"Do you really believe I do not know the risks? I know that we are out manned, out gunned and out maneuvered. If he decides to hold a real big bad grudge we all will have to pay. But that's not my decision to make. I'm a sworn officer of the Crown and while our King is no more sane, it's the Crown Prince who gets the saying. And I'll obey. Whatever he commands..."

Mr. Bennet looked at the young general.

"Whatever he commands?"

"He won't ask me or anyone to kill her. He is the most sane man I know. He has lots of flaws but he knows were his limits are. And in this case, if he doesn't get d'Arcy he won't try anything against your daughter. She is Probably the only thing between d'Arcy's wrath and himself. He will be cautious, I'm sure..."

"Give me your word that you won't harm her..."

"I'm not the only officer in his service..."

"You I know and you I can ask. Give me your word..."

Fitzwilliam sighed.

"You'll have it. I won't harm her, even if I'm ordered to... On my honor!"

Mr. Bennet nodded. He wouldn't get more. For everything else he would have to have trust in d'Arcy. Hopefully he would be able to protect her against her own government...

* * *

That finally arrived in the vicinity of London.

Even Edward Bennet who was an excellent rider was exhausted. Mary and Lydia could only hold in saddle thanks to the help of two Horse Guards who were holding them.

He was now at her side to comfort and encourage them.

Fitzwilliam took advantage of the father's pledge to see to the last daughter.

Jane, the best rider of his daughters was still able to ride but soon even she would need the help of somebody.

The general came along side.

"We are arriving at Camberwell. Within the hour we will be at our destination," said Fitzwilliam. "Do you believe, you'll be able to resist another hour?"

"I'll do it, general," said she. "You won't be late for my incarceration."

He shook his head.

"It won't be an incarceration, Miss Bennet. I can't deny that the Prince wants t use you to lure d'Arcy to London but as much as I can swear, you'll get the best treatment possible. You'll be restricted to the Palace but within it's walls you'll be free to come and go as you wish..."

She smiled.

"I will be a guest of honor?"

"The guest of guests..."

"And only because he is courting me?"

"Yes," said he. "And it is is nothing but normal. Because, at this precise moment, he is the most important man of Great Britain. Even the King is less important. You probably know that he holds the future of this island in his hands."

"I know but I fear the future of this island is already decided. We have, if I understood well the reports of our military situation, already lost this war..."

Fitzwilliam made a face.

"Nothing's so dramatically decided. We could still limit the extension of the invasion."

"With what troops, general? I've seen his troops, they don't look as if they had been harassed or fought against. They were just exhausted because they were eating ground like nobody could have foreseen... He prepared this invasion with great care and he surprised you. Do you really believe he will be foolish enough to come and fall into your trap..."

Fitzwilliam found the force to smile back.

"I would come, without a doubt, I would. And from what I have heard of him, he will too. But that doesn't mean that he will fall into our trap. I wouldn't bet a shilling on our success."

She looked at him surprise fighting exhaustion.

"You seem to think a lot of him..."

"Why shouldn't I? He just did what all the general officers of the British army and all the Crown counselors swear was impossible. He put seventy thousand men ashore without loosing more than a handful of his and now he is overrunning us. He's beating the crap out of what remains of my troops. I don't like him but I'm not stupid enough not to see what such a success means. We are against one hell of a man and I really have no idea what to do to stop him!"

He shook his head.

"What I resent the most is the fact that he could have been with us and not against us."

Jane frowned at him.

"How so?"

"He came to Great Britain twenty five years ago and he applied for Oxford and Cambridge. And they refused him because he was two months late... I really think that we should shoot the deans of Cambridge and Oxford..."

She shook her head.

"He would never have found his place here... He's much too independent. He would have been very unhappy."

"You really think so?"

"I'm sure. He has such an unruly trait in him that he would have clashed with all the authorities. He needed to go somewhere else to learn patience and self control."

"And did he found such a place?"

"He did. I've never seen a more controlled man. At first, his eyes were the only way through which he choose to convey his true feelings. For the rest he could very well have been made of stone... He warmed up and became more human only while carrying me..."

"Lucky man..."

Her smile came back and her eyes thanked him for his compliment.

"And his eyes are always so full of life and love that I could feel my skin shiver each time he looked at me..."

"You share his feelings?"

"I have feelings for him, there can be no doubt on that matter. But do I share what _he _feels? I don't know. I really don't know. I never felt what I feel now. And I'm not sure I like what I'm feeling."

Fitzwilliam could only nod in understanding.

He could very well understand d'Arcy's feelings.

Indeed she was Elizabeth's sister. Not as lively and not so quick at repartee but with something else. She looked at people and things with a real understanding and what looked very well like wisdom.

One could lose oneself in those eyes and that peculiar shy smile.

Yes, indeed, quite an interesting young Lady.

And remembering her sister Elizabeth did nothing to soothe him.

How could it be that Hertfortshire could be home to such interesting women and it staying a secret?

What about the other sisters?

He had seen Lydia and her reaction to Wickham.

Too reckless and too young. In a few years, perhaps, when age had given her a few ugly lessons...

The other sister was interesting but way too...

Serious would be the kind word to use.

Boring could be the little more unkind one but it was not necessarily false.

Shame the eldest sisters were already besieged by such uncommon suitors.

But there was somewhere in Derbyshire a last sister.

If he got the possibility he would have to get a look of her.

If she was more like the two eldest ones, he would strike.

Hopefully, this time, he would be the first!

* * *

**Next chapter : London Palace**


	32. London Palace

The "guests" are in London.

* * *

**Chapter 32: London Palace **

* * *

**London, seventh day**

* * *

With an empty just awakening London they arrived to Westminster Bridge in less than half an hour. There, Captain Wickham was present to greet them.

His presence was enough to wake up both the younger Bennets. Lydia because her "dear Wickham" was there to welcome her and Mary because the unseemly behavior of her younger sister was enough to summon the last of her energy.

But Captain Wickham was not alone to greet them and Fitzwilliam's aide, a colonel Mayfayr was soon present to be at their service.

He was charming, smiling and witty and very soon Lydia's attention was drawn to the young colonel who, unlike Wickham, brought no negative frown on Richard's or Mr. Bennet's brow.

But even the unseemly behavior of two suitors was not enough to squelch all tiredness of the Ladies' bodies and soon they were asleep in their rooms in the second floor of the Palace's guests' wing.

Jane was the last to kiss her father goodbye before following a maid upstairs.

Mr. Bennet looked at the general and they both smiled at each other.

"Sorry for you, general, but I really fear you're too late to get a real chance with that daughter of mine..."

"So do I, Mr. Bennet. So do I... And I regret it even more now that I have an estate which would give me the power to choose the woman I really want..."

"Would?"

Fitzwilliam let a rueful smile adorn his lips.

"His Highness granted me an estate in Kent. I fear it will be a long time before I'm able to live of the rent it's providing..."

Mr. Bennet winked at him.

"You really believe so? Aren't you d'Arcy's cousin?"

"Which Darcy?"

"Both Darcys"

Fitzwilliam was not immediately aware of what Mr. Bennet was speaking about. But then he saw the light.

"Gosh, you're right. I'm cousin to both!"

"And for what I saw, the French d'Arcy seems very aware of the importance of family links. He even let my cousin Collins out of deportation camp to please Jane." He laughed. "And that was a real sacrifice even if reverend Collins seems to have acquired a real sense of decency these last days. So if he could accept to stand a prig like my cousin, I do not doubt that your estate will really be yours the moment you decide to live on it..."

Fitzwilliam nodded before bowing before the old Bennet.

"Are you too tired or would you accept to breakfast in my company? I'm a little on the young side and I'd like to hear what really happened during the insurrection..."

"What makes you think that I'm willing to speak of that period?"

"An intuition, Major. I know that speaking of old evils to young officers helps old prigs to sleep better in the following nights."

"Have a little respect for an oldie like me, general. We do not like to be seen for what we are. Prig perhaps I am but prig never I'll be named..."

Fitzwilliam bounced a salute.

"Aye, aye, Sir..."

"We're Navy now?"

"As I see the problem, we're all that remains. So why not also Navy?"

"Why not, indeed. What's for breakfast?"

"You choose, Sir. We have the royal cook and kitchen at our leisure..."

"Now that's good news! What would you say of..."

* * *

"It's great! I love it here..."

Jane said nothing. Lydia was so happy it was almost indecent.

She was a guest of the Royal Palace, she had a room for herself and four maids to do her wishes and bidding. And two officers were outsmarting each other to get more of her time.

It was heaven on earth for her...

"It's wont' last," said Mary. "We are only by products. You know that the only reason we are here is to be with Jane while they are preparing the trap for monsieur d'Arcy, aren't you?"

Lydia shot her an ugly glance.

"And what difference does it make? We're here and we're allowed to go nearly everywhere... I'd never ever dreamed to be the guest of His Majesty."

"We are here to entertain the bait, you dummy! I don't see what's so exciting about it..."

Lydia stood up and went to the window.

"That's because you have no feeling for the opportunities! We are here and we are free to do as we please. Use the opportunity God gives to you and..."

"Don't speak of God! He won't..."

Jane looked up and expelled what was the best she could in form of a cry.

"Mary, please! You're no man of the cloak and you do not need to stand guard before the Holy scripture. Lydia doesn't share you visions of a perfect life and she had shown on myriads of occasions that she won't be convinced to agree with you! So please, spare us with your sermons. You know as well as we that you'll never be a priest and that you'll never will be able to use all the knowledge you're hoarding in your mind on any flock of followers! So, please, no need to perform on us to stay in shape!"

Mary shut her mouth and glared at her elder sister.

She was just trying to...

Jane smiled at her.

"I know you were only trying to defend me against Lydia's exuberance. But, please, be conscious that she will never calm down even if you preach to her for a millennium. She's Lydia and that's it. I

prefer her babble and your silence than your unending quarrels. I have already heard the whole of your arguments a thousand times. Please do me the favor to be quiet..."

There was a rasp on the door.

"Enter," said Lydia who was always the first to speak.

Mayfayr's head and smile looked into the room.

"I'm here to escort Miss Bennet to the Library. Your wish to be given access to His Majesty's books has been granted." He entered and bowed. "If Miss Bennet would accept to accompany me..."

Lydia was immediately at his side.

"Can we come with you?"

He smiled at her.

"Why not, I have not asked for your sister in particular. I asked if the guests are allowed. And I just got the answer that you were granted said access..."

"But you'll be quiet," said Jane. "It's a library, not a ball room."

"That's true! What if you'd show us the ball room in place of these old books. It would be much more interesting..."

"Please, just show me the door to the library and you'll be free to show Lydia the rest of the Palace."

Mayfayr bowed once more.

"It will be my pleasure..."

* * *

The Library was superb. Probably every book ever published in Great Britain was on the shelves. But most of them, if not all, were new. Some had not even been cut out...

"Nobody reads in this huge a Palace?" asked Jane after putting the third book back on the shelves because the pages were not cut out...

"This is not where we look to find a book," said a voice.

She turned to face a wigged old man, standing while putting most of his weight on a walking stick.

Jane curtsied and he made the hint of a bow.

"We have all our own library," the man went on. "But I have always liked it here. It's great to find new books and new authors. If there's a new genius to discover how will you ever know him if you do not try his books?"

Jane made a face.

"But they are not cut out..."

He shrugged and went to the wall where he pulled a cord.

Two seconds later a footman was there.

"This young Lady wants a few books cut out... Please, do as she wants..."

The footman raised an eyebrow and Jane took the books she had chosen earlier out of the shelves and handed them to the footman who took them and went out the room.

"It will take time,' said the old man. "I like them to be neatly cut. I have a cutter whose job is just that. He does it the whole day long but we buy so much books he never make it up..."

He showed Jane a armchair.

"Please do have a seat..."

She curtsied and took the proposed seat.

He sat opposite her.

"You're a guest?"

"I suppose," answered Jane, "one could name me that. I'm here at the bidding of Prince George."

"Georgy invited you?"

He looked puzzled and then burst out laughing.

"Of course! You are a Lady maid for one of his guests. I didn't think of it because you are so pretty. Most of the Lady maids they send to the Palace are old and ugly and bothersome."

He leaned forward.

"And it's on purpose. They fear I'm going to harass them. So they send only old hags..."

He nodded and looked at her.

"But they are all wrong. I'm no longer able to harass anybody..."

He sighed.

"I don't know how it happened but these days I'm always tired and I am no longer able to finish a book without falling asleep." His smile came back. "That's why I prefer poetry these days. I choose short poems and I always happen to read the whole of them... It's quite satisfying..."

He chuckled and began to babble around poetry.

Mixing fragments with poetic commentaries and useless gibberish.

Jane could do nothing but listen. She didn't know who he was but evidently he was a guest of the Palace and he had lost his mind some time further.

She decided that listening to him was better than listen to Mary and Lydia's quarrels and began to nod and smile each time he looked at her.

The arrangement gave him a visible satisfaction and he went on and on and on...

* * *

The servant had indicated the door and if he remembered well they knew always where people were while in the Palace.

Mr Bennet knocked at the door and went in.

"Dear?"

He saw her immediately. She looked at him and smiled.

A man with a wig was sitting opposite her and he was speaking with a certain force about poetry.

When he saw Jane's smile he turned and looked at him.

For a few seconds they looked at each other without saying a word.

"Eddy!" said the old man while smiling at him. "What a good surprise! Since when did you come back from Sweden?"

That remark made Jane frown.

"You were in Sweden, Papa?"

"Papa?"

The eyes of the old man went from Jane to Mr. Bennet and back.

"She's your daughter Eddy? Why haven't I been informed? Why hasn't Caroline written? I'm an uncle, am I not?"

He looked at Jane.

"Hell, you must be thirteen or fourteen! Perhaps even more. More than ample time to inform the Crown Prince. Why hadn't she?"

He turned toward Mr. Bennet.

"And God Eddy, what happened to you? You seem ten years older..."

Mr. Bennet was dumbfounded for a few seconds and then he took control of the situation. All blood drained out of his face but he managed to go on.

"That's because of the Swedish climate, George. Long awful winters and never a sun ray even in summer. Takes his toll on the body!"

"Happy I never went there, Eddy. I would have hated it! How's Caroline?"

"She's well, George. She's well. She sends her greetings and she is very sorry not having been able to come but you know with the pack ice everywhere on the sea we couldn't take the risk... She never liked to travel. It's not now that she will change..."

A tear run across Mr. Bennet's cheek and he made no effort to capture it.

"Awful climate, really..." answered George. "I never understood why you went there."

"It was you father's wish, George. And even if you have forgotten it, it was your idea to marry Caroline to Sweden..."

The old man seemed surprised.

"Was it? God I don't really remember anything about that decision..."

For a second he seemed upset but soon his smile was back.

"Never mind! What is important that I finally had the great luck to see my niece... How is her name?"

"Her name is Jane," answered Mr. Bennet, "and she's the guest of your son George."

The old man shook his head and showed a little anger.

"He could have informed me. What this boy thinks is beyond me!"

He stood up and went to Jane.

He kissed her and patted her hand.

"How nice to finally have met you, dear. When you see your mother, please convey her my regrets. I really, really regret everything..."

With these words he turned and disappeared through a hidden door behind two shelves.

* * *

"Who was this man, Papa?"

Mr. Bennet, still looking at what appeared as a normal wall could only shrug.

"That was His Majesty King George the Third."

He shook himself and turned toward his daughter. He had a sad look and his eyes were shining with unshed tears.

"And before you ask, Caroline was his sister and he married her to a Swedish Prince in order to put the greatest possible distance between her and me. She died twenty one years ago..."

He went to his daughter and took her in his arms. She felt him shiver and she did what she could to comfort him.

"And all these years, dear, I have cursed him and his father. And as it seems, my curse was even stronger than I deemed myself up to..."

He paced back and looked his daughter in the eyes.

"This has to be our secret Jane. I want nobody else to know anything about this old story. It's past and from this day on, I know that it has no more reason to be in my mind. Until now, I was unable to let go and it cursed my life and a part of yours..."

He hugged her.

"Forgive me, Jane... I'm a foolish old man who was always looking with regrets over his shoulder when he should have looked at the beauties in front of him..."

"We all make failures, Papa. I did them with Charles and you did them with us. But, in the end, is there something to regret?"

He looked at her and couldn't help but smile.

"You're right! There's nothing to regret. I had it under my eyes and I choose not to look at my life. But that life is still there and, perhaps, it's not too late..."

* * *

King George the Third was looking at a portrait.

A portrait of his sister Caroline.

He hadn't looked at her for years. Today, for a reason he would not search, he could.

"Caroline, I'm so happy you finally forgave me... So happy..."

He was still there in front of the portrait when, two hours later, his sons and his doctors showed up looking for him.

His jacket was wet for his tears...

* * *

Next chapter:


	33. Pemberley Surprises

Pemberley and some curious discoveries.

* * *

**Chapter 33: Pemberley Surprises **

* * *

**Derbyshire, Pemberley and the Peaks, Tuesday the eleventh August. Seventh day**

* * *

"Who?"

Elizabeth couldn't help but show her surprise.

"Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley," answered Mrs. Reynolds. "They arrived yesterday morning while you were out picnicking..."

A light blush came to Elizabeth's cheeks. Nobody had said anything but she was sure everybody looked at her -_at them, to say the truth_- with glinting eyes and those little half smiles people use when knowing something droll but refusing to speak about it.

"And they weren't with their brother when he departed?"

"They saw each other in the morning," explained Mrs. Reynolds. "They had a few arguments and I do believe they weren't in the best of moods when their brother departed. I suppose they had already said goodbye..."

Elizabeth could only nod.

She really hoped that with their own domestic problems the two sisters hadn't grasped what happened between her and Fitzwilliam.

She knew she would hate even the slightest sign of Caroline's superior -_and knowing_- smile.

Could she strike back, if such an occurrence happened? Even before the wedding?

She sighed and shot a small smile towards Mrs. Reynolds.

"I suppose it would be unseemly to ignore their request?"

That brought a smile on Mrs. Reynolds lips.

"It would certainly, but we could organize a speedy picnic and I could pretend having not found you..."

Elizabeth shook her head.  
No she would do no such thing. She was perhaps not yet Mrs. Darcy but she had already all the responsibilities of the Mistress of Pemberley. Not accepting the sisters' call would be rude. And foolish...

"No, I do fear you caught me just before the picnic, Mrs. Reynolds. We will have to postpone it..."

Mrs. Reynolds' smile became more motherly and Elizabeth could read that she was also proud with her.

It gave her the courage she needed to ask _the _question.

"Mrs. Reynolds, before introducing thoses dear family friends I would like to ask you a question."

"A question, Miss? What about?"

Elizabeth couldn't help but blush a fiery crimson.

"About yesterday's picnic... I would like to know if within the staff there are..."

She hesitated unable to find the right words.

"Rumors?" helped Mrs. Reynolds...

Elizabeth nodded frantically with her head.

"No, Miss Elizabeth," answered Mrs. Reynolds. "There are no rumors..."

The way she said it crushed Elizabeth's first relief.

"What else, then?"

"Certainties, Miss."

Seeing Elizabeth's reaction she immediately came nearer and took the young woman's hand.

"Please don't be misled, Miss Elizabeth. There's no one on the Estate who does not applaud with both hands what just happened between the Master and you. We know the Master and we know how he can be when insistent. He always got what he wanted from his mother and, even if it took longer, from his father." She smiled at Elizabeth.

"You couldn't humanly resist him more than a few days. Not with those loving eyes imploring you and those adventurous hands catching you..."

Elizabeth shook her head.

"They will believe me wanton and interested..."

Mrs. Could not help but laugh. It was unseemly to laugh at a remark of the next Mistress of Pemberley but it was really too funny. How was it that the most perfect ones always believed themselves wanton?

"No need to fear anything the like. We knew you were the right one the day we saw him encountering you in the gardens. Never ever had the Master changed his clothes so speedily and with such impatience. Never again had it happened since. The word flew from room to room within seconds and the whole staff was looking at you from all the windows of the House. We saw him hesitate, turn around you, pace back and forth, hold his hands frantically behind his back... There was not a single soul in the House who had the least doubt that we were, if the Master found in himself the courage to ask, looking at our new Mistress."

She looked Elizabeth directly in the eyes.

"We all know the young Master perfectly well. We saw him grow up. We know all his habits, we feel his every mood. And this very day, we all knew he was not in his habitual mindset. He was clumsy, hesitant, shy..." She smiled again. "Why would he be so 'young' if not because he was in love? And the young Lady at his side was everything we ever wished for. Reserved and shy, polite and friendly, well bred and full of life. She had already shown that she was a kind soul and that she was able to _see_ the members of the staff..."

Elizabeth looked at Mrs. Reynolds with surprise in her eyes.

"Yes, Miss Elizabeth, to be able to _see us_. You weren't here for more than five minutes that you had smiled to all the maids, said 'thank you' to all the footman who opened the doors for you and curtsied to me in response of my welcome." Her smile disappeared and her eyes strayed to the door. "The sisters have never curtsied in response of my welcome. For them I'm a part of the furniture and the maids and footmen are just accommodations coming with the house. Like the plumbing or the stairs... Not so with with you. You knew that nothing comes from alone. That there are people behind a good running house. And you had learned to acknowledge these people. We were quite impressed to see that our Master has been able to see all the qualities you were carrying with you."

Her smile came back.

"We had the final confirmation when he made us prepare _the bedroom_ for you..."

Elizabeth looked at her with a frown.

"How so? What's the matter with this particular bedroom?"

Mrs. Reynolds shook her head.

"It has been prepared on his and Georgiana's special request. It was, from the beginning, bound to be the Mistress' bedroom."

Elizabeth had guessed so much. But something in the eyes of Mrs. Reynolds told her that the story was not at its end.

"What else, Mrs. Reynolds?"

The old retainer smothered the laugh that was swelling in her chest. One does not laugh about one's Mistress's glinting eyes.

"Next time you are upstairs, please have a look at your bath. It's not easy to see, but there is another door just opposite to the door which opens on your bedroom..."

The frown increased.

"You mean that _he_..."

Mrs. Reynolds nodded. She had no real idea what Elizabeth was imagining but there was a safe explanation and she would believe it's that what she was speaking about...

"Yes, he occupies the suite which is just running on from your bath. He could have intruded on your privacy any moment he wanted. As all young man violently in love, he probably planned on it! But I know there was no risk there. He hoped that there would be an overture and that his secret door could _finally_ be used..."

An impish smile came on Elizabeth's lips.

"You mean that I could intrude onto him directly in his bedroom?"

"By passing through his own bathroom, it is a very real possibility. If you really wanted it, I see nothing that could stop you, Miss Elizabeth! But of course nothing of that matter is ever going to happen, isn't it?"

"Of course not..." answered Elizabeth the impish smile a permanent feature of her face. Her eyes looked at the door.

"Thank you, Mrs. Reynolds you were of a great help. Could you please introduced Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley? I'm quite curious to know the reason for this interview."

* * *

As always the Bingley sisters entered in the strict age order they had always practiced.

First Mrs. Hurst then Caroline Bingley. The former taking the first farther seat and the later coming nearer to sit near her guest.

"Miss Elizabeth," said Caroline just a second before Mrs. Hurst said the same.

"Miss Bingley, Mrs. Hurst," answered Elizabeth accompanying her greetings with a light bow of her bust.

She had had some reluctance to accept the stance of the Mistress of Pemberley but Mrs Reynolds had been very insistent.

She was receiving as the future Mistress of Pemberley and she had no need to stand up to respond to curtsying callers.

It was quite strange for her to act in that manner.

But Mrs. Reynolds had been very very imperative... Her antipathy for the two sisters having, of course, nothing to do with her insistence.

And so Elizabeth stayed sitting on her seat.

That fact went, of course, not unseen by Caroline who was very attentive to all those little details of the life of Gentry and aristocracy.

"You wanted to see me?"

Elizabeth could not help but being impressed by her own tone. She seemed calm and serene even if inwardly she was boiling.

"Indeed," answered Caroline who would, as usual be the head speaker of the Bingley family. "I wanted to speak to you to cover a few items which could, if not treated soon, add more trouble to our future relations..."

"More trouble?"

Caroline nodded.

"More trouble, Miss Elizabeth..."

Elizabeth was quite satisfied that Caroline had chosen to cease to call her 'Eliza'. She couldn't stand that peculiar nickname and the fact that Miss Bingley had chosen it for her had done nothing to raise its position in her mind.

Caroline took a deep breath and leaned forward.

"I saw you from the beginning as a threat to my future with Fitzwilliam, Miss Elizabeth. And I acted accordingly. Sometimes in a very unseemly way and I would like to apologize."

Elizabeth managed a smile.

"You had a better insight on my encounter with Fitzwilliam then myself. I, for my part, never really believed something could happen between us till last Monday..."

Caroline answered with a smile. A genuine smile. The first Elizabeth had ever seen.

"That's because you had no real idea of how Fitzwilliam Darcy could react in unknown situations. I, for my part, have spend quite a few hours studying him and I knew that he had taken a fancy in you just by the way he tried so hard _not_ to look at you."

She sighed.

"That's were I let my hopes smother my brain," she added.

"At that point of our relations, I should have recognized that he would never come to me as a putative wife. I should have played another game. The game of matchmaker... He would have listened to me, I'm sure of it, and I would, by pushing you into his arms, have increased my standing with both of you.."

Elizabeth couldn't help but let a little shock be seen in her attitude.

Was Caroline Bingley really saying what she feared she just heard?

"I'm not the romantic type of woman you or your sister are. I'm the more pragmatic sort of woman. I want power and I want wealth. In exchange I am willing to give beauty, connections and my perfect knowledge of the ton and its habits. I'm even willing to produce a few heirs to stabilize the family. Love is not and will never be a part of the bargain. I' m not willing to be besotted and to lose my grasp over reality." She smiled an acid smile. "I let these behaviors to those of us who still do believe in happiness..."

She sat back.

"I made a mistake the day I let myself believe that Mr. Darcy and I shared the same view of life. I never even suspected that he was of the same romantic strain than my poor brother. I must confess he played the_ blasé _with consistency and believability. I saw nothing coming and I'm a woman who takes great pleasure in foreseeing things..."

Elizabeth could only shook her head. Why was Caroline telling her those things.

"You wonder why I'm telling you this?"

She let go a little perfectly cold laugh.

"Because I do not want us to be enemies, Miss Elizabeth. I'm, as I said, a pragmatic woman. I wanted Fitzwilliam Darcy and I did everything in my power to get him and, what's more important in your case, to get you out of his life."

Her smile increased.

"Even if Mr. Darcy had no real idea of it, we were rivals! I had to try to eliminate you and to do this I had to push Charles out of your sister's life. I did what I had to do and I regret only that for a time I let my hopes reign over my destiny..."

She shrugged.

"In the end, it came to no avail and I'm sorry about it but as a pragmatic woman I must go on and accept the fact that, in this instance, I lost."

She made a face and her smile was of the unhappy forced sort of smile.

"I'm not happy about it but I'm very concerned about our relations in the future. I would like to stay in Mr. Darcy's esteem and good graces. Even if my brother is very upset with us, I'm sure he would not mind if I was here on your invitation or Mr. Darcy's. He, and Charles was very adamant on that point, would never again take the trouble to, as he said, drag us along. He will provide for us and our needs for as long as we live in one of his houses. The day we go on without its authorization, he will cut our stipend..."

Caroline's eyes became very narrow slits.

"I'm a wealthy woman, Miss Elizabeth, but I'm not that wealthy. I could live a few years on the money my father gave me but I would be desperate to marry quickly and desperate people make errors that cost! And I don't want to be pushed into desperation."

Elizabeth took an long breath.

"And you count on me for that?"

Caroline couldn't help but laugh at so much naiveté.

"Of course I count on you, my dear Elizabeth. Because I know you are a kind and compassionate person. I could be playing on your kindness and your compassion and you would do my bidding. But I chose to be frank. I need you and you need me. And we could both come out much stronger, if we work together, or weaker, if we battle one against the other..."

Elizabeth could only shook her head at so much guile.

"You really believe that..."

"Of course, I do," interrupted Caroline. "And you know exactly why. Look at yourself. Do you really believe you will be able to give to your children everything they need to survive in your new environment?"

She shook her head.

"I don't say you won't be able to learn. I say you'll have a lot to learn and time will be short. You'll need every help you can get. And even if I'm not a very kind or compassionate person, I'm a knowledgeable one. I know everything about London, the fashion, the _ton_ and the Aristocracy. I could be a valuable asset and I'm available!"

She looked at her sister who nodded before going on.

"I don't know what you know about Lady de Bourgh but if there's one thing that is sure, it's the fact that she won't accept lightly your alliance with Fitzwilliam Darcy. She will do what's in her power to make your life a hell. And if your love to Mr. Darcy will probably help _you_ to surmount the ostracism she will put on you and your family, do you really believe your daughters will like the fact that they will be shunned and scorned by their pears?"

Elizabeth, who had thought about that aspect, felt her stomach flinch.

It was a fact that Lady Catherine could very well do what was in her power to put Fitzwilliam and her at the fringe of the society.

She knew _they_ would easily support it. But what of their children? What of their daughters. Would they have to _buy_ a husband?

"I knew you had already thought about it," went on Caroline Bingley. "And here's the bargain: I stay on your lists and you promise me that I'll be invited as often as possible in all the circles you and your husband support and I give you my word that those circles will be be as large as they were for Mr. Darcy in the past."

She smiled her genuine but frightening smile.

"Don't forget it's to my advantage also. Where you go, I go... And, this way, your children will never have to suffer from Lady de Bourgh's slander. I'll counter them as often as possible. And contrary to Lady de Bourgh, I will be on the spot. And I'm known as a scheming person... Your children will always have access to my help and council and, as a result, I can guarantee that they'll have their rightful place in all levels of British society."

Elizabeth glanced at both the Bingley sisters.

They had a point.

More than one in fact.

She looked at Caroline.

"Must we like each other?"

Caroline shook her head.

"I won't," answered she. "But I'm not sure you won't, some time in the future, like me... Being kind and compassionate has its disadvantages..."

"We'll see in the future, then," answered Elizabeth. "In the meantime, you're welcome to stay till the wedding..."

Both sisters smiled their satisfaction.

They had won the last battle of a war they had lost a few weeks ago.

Now, they could go on and safely choose their next battle field.

* * *

**Next chapter: London Separations**


	34. London Separations

Where the bait is going to be left alone in hope that the tiger will show up.

* * *

**Chapter 34: London Separations**

* * *

**London, Royal Palace, Tuesday the eleventh August. Seventh day**

* * *

"I stay and you go to Cheapside?"

"That would be the plan if you agree, dear..."

Jane inhaled deeply and nodded with reluctance her agreement.

"Do I have something to say about it, or have I just to accept and shut up?"

Mr. Bennet looked at what had been till last week his most demure and shyest daughter.

Had she just shown a bout of temper?

What had become of his little patient angel? It was quite clear that too much --_or too special_-- suitors did have an influence on those who were courted.

"If you insist, we stay, dear. We won't let you alone if you need us..."

She shook her head and looked at him.

"That's not what I meant. I would have liked to go with you, not that you stayed here with me..."

She shot an irate glance towards one of the sentinels.

"What grates is my being a prisoner..."

"General Fitzwilliam doesn't name it so but it is nonetheless a truth, you're prisoner in the Palace."

"And I'm used as bait, Papa. They have no right to do such a thing..."

"They have all the rights they want, dear. Kings do what they want and, from time to time there's need for a little revolution or invasion to remind them that they are normal human beings..."

He sighed.

"But don't be too harsh with our sovereign. I fear he has no more choice than we. He has been pushed in a very unhealthy situation and he sees no solution to get out of it."

She looked at her father and smiled.

"I'm not harsh, papa. I'm just upset that they try to use me to harm..." She hesitated. "Him..."

It was his turn to smile.

"Yes... Him!"

He took his daughter into his arms.

"Do you fear for him?" whispered he into her ear.

She shook her head very discreetly.

"Than please see the bright side of the bargain, we are out of the war zone and if we should decide to go to Pemberley to join Lizzie and her bridegroom in time for the wedding we are much nearer than yesterday."

Jane could only nod.

"If I were free, we would already be galloping toward her..."

Mr. Bennet let out a little dubious whistle.

"Galloping, galloping, dear... I do believe that I did enough galloping these last week for a few years. If I have a choice, I would prefer a comfortable coach with lots of cushions and the best available springs..."

She shook her head before hugging him.

"I'm sorry, Papa, we put you into unacceptable conditions... Had we stayed at home..."

"You wouldn't have met this awful invader with his honey tongue and smiling eyes..." he interrupted her. "We can't complain: you are all in good health and I had more fun these last four days than in the last five years. I could have lost my most beloved and I only got a sore butt and an aching back... In truth, I feel like the most privileged of man and I'm ashamed to let those feelings roam in my heart but I can't help it: you're all safe and we will, whatever happens in this war, come out better than we were. I know it's selfish but it's a fact and I revel in that peculiar knowledge."

"I would love to be with Lizzie on the day of her wedding..." said his daughter. "If we took the road today we could make it easily."

He took her hand and squeezed it.

"We still have time. It's only Tuesday and we could make it in less than three days. If we move before Friday, we still could be in time..."

"If and when..." sighed she. "It seems to me that I'll be held prisoner here for as long as His Majesty believes it necessary. If _he_ never comes, I'm stuck here for weeks..."

"I'm sure he's already informed and depended on where he currently is, he could be here very much earlier than we all think."

She shot a dubious glance at her father.

"Why should he come? He has his invasion to look after, I'm probably the last of his concerns."

"Perhaps, dear. But then, perhaps not... I'm sure you'll be the first informed if he decides to stage a visit to the Palace."

He took her a last time in his arms and kissed her.

"We will come every day to visit you and..."

The noise of the crashing door cut him off.

"I'm not going! I see no reason why I couldn't stay here!"

They both turned and looked at a rather upset Lydia.

* * *

"Why this tantrum, dear?"

"I don't want to leave, Papa! We're guest in the Palace. When will such a thing happen again. Why can't we stay? It's much more interesting here than in Cheapside!"

She looked at the ceiling.

"Why-can't-we-stay!"

"Because I want to see what's the state of my brother's House..."

"You don't need me to do that..." shouted she. "I see no reason to left my beautiful apartment to move into the shabby little room I'll get in Cheapside!"

"It's the home of your uncle and I'm sure he will be very grateful if we look after his affairs while he is out of Town."

"But why take me with you? I'm of no use in Cheapside and I'm so happy here..."

Mr. Bennet took a deep breath. He had hoped that the Brighton episode would have given a little common sense to his daughter but his prayer had been in vain. She was Lydia and it seemed that even the little inconvenience of a full scale war would not better her...

"I don't made the same failure twice in the same year, dear! Letting you out of my eyes has brought us exactly where we are, I won't take the risk to do it again."

He smiled at her.

"I move, you move! That's it and it's not open to negotiations..."

Lydia stamped her foot.

'I don't-want-to-leave!"

Her father only shook once more his head.

"And-I-don't-want-to-leave-you!"

He stopped just before stamping himself.

"Than stay here, it's much more pleasant that uncle Gardiner's shabby old house..."

"Perhaps, dear, but that's where we belong! Not here and not _yet _in Pemberley. That question is no longer open to discussions..."

Lydia shut her mouth and turned toward the exit when she stopped right in her movement.

She came back.

""Papa, we can't let Jane alone in this huge Palace. She will be all lonely and forlorn. Let me stay with her. My presence will be a great support for her..."

Mr. Bennet could only nod with admiration.

"Nice try, dear. I would have bought it if you hadn't used it as a second line of battle. I fear just after your egoistical tantrum it's a little unbelievable... Don't you think?"

Lydia growled a last --_fortunately not understandable_-- word and stomped out of the room slamming the door behind her.

Jane and her father looked at each other before bursting out laughing.

* * *

Half an hour later, Jane heard a little rasp at her door.

She opened and Lydia, wearing a maid's outfit and carrying a tray of tea slid into her room.

"I've got the solution, Jane! Everything will be fine..."

Jane could only look with disbelief at her sister who was just beginning to undress.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm taking you place, that's what I'm doing! You go with Papa to Pemberley and I stay here playing your role. Nobody will see the difference..."

"I'm not so..."

"No need to be! I've thought of everything. The dress is too large for me but it is perfect for you. You'll be able to go out of the Palace with nobody noticing anything... It'll all be very easy."

Jane looked a little shaken.

"And what will happen when they find out that I'm gone ad that you have taken my place?"

"Why should they? We are here for only a few hours. Nobody has have the time to look at us thoroughly. We are sisters and we are quite lifelike. They won't see anything!"

She slid out of her maid's outfit and tossed it to Jane.

"Hurry, we don't have the whole day. They don't probably know that you never bother a servant and they should not mind that that maid stays with you more than the traditional five minutes but there's no reason to take risks..."

* * *

Jane looked at the maid's dress and made a face.

Was this a good idea. What would happen if they get caught?

They could transfer her in a cell and Lydia would be expelled, that part was sure.

Lydia looked at her and came over looking to the heavens.

"Why is it you always hesitate, Jane? I'm volunteering to stay in you place. They'll get what they want and I'll get what I crave for. Everybody will be happy and nobody will notice anything."

She went to the maid's outfit and Jane and began to help her sister to undress.

"You'll see, everything will go perfectly well..."

* * *

Five minutes later, Jane was coming out of 'her' room disguised as a Palace's maid.

She had looked at herself in the mirror and she could only agree with Lydia. Wearing a maid's outfit did, for all that it's worth, metamorphose you into a maid.

She closed the door and holding her trail she began to glide toward the end of the corridor, each second awaiting the guards call.  
But none came.

She disappeared around the corner and even other maids or footmen didn't seem to find her presence even a little disturbing.

_Well, I'm out of my room and out of the eyes of my guards. What Am I going to do now_?

She decided that the best would be to play Lydia's role. Following Lydia's hint and sneaking out of the Palace would only bring out suspicion against her father and sisters. If the three Bennets who planned to go were seen quitting, nobody would suspect anything. If there was a Bennet missing at her father's departure, even half witted horse guards would begin to suspect something.

She exhaled heavily wondering why she, once more, had accepted that foolish scheme.

And she got immediately the answer: she had no inclination to be the cause of d'Arcy's capture. If she was no longer in the Palace, he would perhaps no longer have the desire to come _rescue_ her... But to get this peculiar result he would have to know that she was no longer in the Palace. And right now she had no idea how to get him that information in time to stop his next action regarding her.

God, was it only last week when her most important fear was about tearing Lydia out of a red coat's grip? She couldn't believe how fast the situation had changed.

Nor could she really understand why his welfare should be at the center of her preoccupations. What was he for her? What role had he begun to play in her life?

_That's the true question, isn't it_? wondered she.

She climbed down the set of stairs that was leading to her father and sisters' apartments.

She was tempted to tiptoe but it would be suspicious. A maid had no reason to tiptoe. She just went her way without looking neither right nor left...

She straightened her back and began to walk toward her father's apartment.

At that exact moment Richard Fitzwilliam appeared at the other end of the corridor.

She took hold of herself and went on trying to look inconspicuous. .

_I'm a maid, I'm a maid... You don't see me... You don't see me_...

He went along and she exhaled a discreet sigh when she heard him stop and turn...

"You wouldn't be doing something foolish, Miss Bennet?" heard she coming from behind.

She stopped and sighed heavily.

_So much for magic_...

"Not any more, general, not anymore..."

* * *

"You can't do that! I'm a guest of His Highness the Crown Prince. He would wonder why I'm no longer at his disposal..."

Fitzwilliam didn't let go from her elbow.

"You're are indeed his guest but you're also under the authority of your father and since he has decided that you're accompanying him to Cheapside, I fear that's exactly what you're going to do!"

Lydia growled inwardly and very soon outwardly.

"That's not to be accepted! I'm not a piece of furniture. I have rights..."

"You have the right to obey your father, for sure. And till you got a husband, he will be the one who has the power of deciding where you live... That's it! Just live with it, you won't change it soon..."

She tried to wriggle out of his grasp.

He hold her steadfastly.

"Don't be ridiculous, Miss Lydia. You know very well that there's no alternative to your going with your father. Not after what you tried this morning..."

Lydia thought she detected a hole in the general's reasoning. She chose her words carefully. She was perhaps not the tamest of all daughters, but she had never been a fool.

"Exactly, after what I did this morning, you cannot possibly let me out of your sight! I was helping my future brother in law! And I'll do it again if there's nobody to have a stern look upon me. Colonel Mayfayr would be the perfect candidate for such a delicate job..."

Fitzwilliam couldn't help but chuckle.

"So it's Mayfayr now. Dear Wickham is no longer your favorite?"

Lydia looked at the general with a stunned expression on her face.

"How could he? He's a braggart and a gamer. He's charming but his eyes are always cold and plotting. Colonel Mayfayr, on the other side, if an extravagant flirt and a dashing peacock, has sincere smiles and his compliments are given with heartfelt feelings. He will perhaps forget me tomorrow for a more beautiful girl but today I'm really the woman of his heart. Wickham will toss me out of his life the second he sniffs a better financial opportunity." She winked at Fitzwilliam. "Since you're hopelessly besotted with Jane and refuse to see my numerous qualities, Colonel Mayfayr is the very best choice I've got..."

Fitzwilliam couldn't help but wonder. This young Lady was, most of the time, behaving like a foolish hen but there was also a keen understanding of human behavior behind her reflexions. He wouldn't have thought she would have such an insight in both his aides character.

He forced himself to go back to the current issue.

"That's all good and well, but I'm sure you cannot help your future brother in law more in Cheapside than here in the Palace. I'm even sure it's in Cheapside that you'll be the less dangerous for the security of the Kingdom. That's why you're moving to your uncle's house with your father."

Lydia opened her mouth to go on when her father's voice interrupted her.

"You should stop arguing with her, general, or she will try to negotiate till the end of the world. 'No' is not an answer my dear Lydia understands. Not in English and not in both other languages she masters. I tried it, she just don't hear it..."

Lydia spoke up.

"That's because you always use it against me! If I wouldn't stand firmly I would never have had anything... I'd have been th..."

"Poor little girl," interrupted Mr. Bennet. "You know very well that if I say 'no' so often it's only because your mama is unable to ever say 'no' to her little hummingbird... At the end you always got what you wanted. Including Brighton with what that could have cost you..."

Lydia looked at the heavens.

""It was great, papa! I had the best time in all my life and I have encountered very interesting people. Even a duchess..."

"Yes, dear, we know... You tell us thrice a day! In a few minutes you'll have the opportunity to tell us the story once more. We will be ensconced in a coach and we will have no other choice than to listen... It should help you to come over that little dissatisfaction..."

Lydia could only grit her teeth.

But giving up was not in her nature.

She launched a last attempt.

"I don't understand, general. I clearly tried to undermine your orders and you do nothing. I should, at the least be arrested and imprisoned somewhere in the Palace. Least you'll pass for a weakling."

Both men looked at each other. Mr. Bennet with a "I told you so" look and Fitzwilliam with a trace of impatience shadowing his features.

And then his eyes began to shine.

"You're right, Miss Lydia. I cannot not punish you for such a behavior..."

He looked at Mr. Bennet and made a face.

"I'm sorry, Sir, but I'm forced to take measure against your youngest daughter. After what she had done I must do something or I'll lose face in front of my men..."

Mr. Bennet inhaled noisily.

"I understand, general. What's necessary, is necessary..."

Fitzwilliam made a gesture toward the two guards accompanying him.

"Please gentlemen, escort this Lady to the London Tower. She will stay there till..."

Lydia's smile disappeared and she was immediately at her father's side.

"Papa, you can't let him do that! I've done nothing which could..."

She stopped when she registered her father's eyes.

The two guards had to intervene since she was trying to pummel the general into oblivion with her purse.

She could have been successful in killing both men because they were on the brink of dying of laughter...

* * *

**Next chapter: Pemberley Qualms  
**

* * *


	35. Pemberley Qualms

This one as an answer to a certain _wet blanket_ who was, of course, right...

* * *

**Chapter 35: Pemberley Qualms**

* * *

"What happened, dear? It's a long time since I saw the Bingley sisters in such a good mood..."

Elizabeth was sure that her cheeks became crimson and she couldn't help but shook her head without saying a word.

Fitzwilliam frowned and came nearer.  
They were alone in his mother's study where Elizabeth liked to spend the few hours she had between fittings and preparations for the impeding wedding.

"Did they bother you? Did they hint at us..."

"No," said Elizabeth. "Of course not. Even if the whole staff seems to know what we really did _that_ night, the sisters don't know a thing and I'm sure they won't ever hear a word from anybody..."

Fitzwilliam hugged his beloved and looked in her eyes.

"That's good new, but that's not all. What did they do to you to look so happy?"

"They did nothing to me, dear. I swear it. We spoke and they made a proposition I found interesting. We made a deal..."

Fitzwilliam made a face, took Lizzie's hand and pulled her to their favorite sofa.

"Let's talk, dear. I'm very interested what scheme Caroline Bingley had found to bluff you..."

* * *

Half an hour later Fitzwilliam was reassured and quite unhappy.

That Elizabeth could think so less of herself to fall into the Bingley's sisters' scheme was rather upsetting. He took a deep breath and forced a smile on his face.  
It began a little forced but soon became genuine and loving.

"Dear, you don't need her half as much as she needs you..."

He lifted her hand and kissed it.

"You are a gentleman's daughter, Lizzie, and even if my aunt took the right to look down at you, you're in no way her inferior. And that is even more true for Caroline Bingley. _I_ made her and not the opposite. She came to enter the circles of the society where I was roaming because I was dragging her brother behind me. She used me to get her entrance in the best circles of the _ton_. And without my help or her brother's money she would very soon fall back into the oblivion where her origins would have condemned her if Charles and I wouldn't have been friends..."

She tried to speak but he stopped her.

"Let me finish, please."

He took her in his arms and let her head find her favorite position on his chest.

"We need nobody, dear. And our daughters will be Darcys. They will bear one of the most prestigious name of Britain and they will have a dowry which will be a much greater problem for their happiness than all the slander my aunt could summon."

He heard her sniff and began to nibble her ear lob. Her sniffs stopped soon replaced by a very satisfying purr.

She was soon much better.

He went on.

"For sure, you have a lot to learn but you have also more than fifteen years to learn it before our first daughter will be of age. By then, you'll know every trick necessary to protect and further her and your other children and you won't need the help of anybody. Neither Caroline Bingley's, nor any other upstart's looking down on you because of your country upbringing."

He forced her to look into his eyes.

"You must stop believing that you are a simpleton and a disgrace to the Darcy family line. You're not only beautiful, witty and full of good sense, you're also, beginning next Sunday, one of the most admired and coveted women of Great Britain."

He smiled at his future wife who smiled back.

"Caroline Bingley believes herself very important. But she's nothing than a rich merchant's daughter. Yes, she's one of the best dressed women of England. But you must realize that she needed to be one of the most elegant ladies of London _just to exist_!"

He put all the love he felt for his future wife in his eyes.

"She has everything that can be bought with money. Nothing more. If you want to be more elegant than her, we can afford it. If you want to be more knowledgeable than her, I can find you within the week a dozen member of the _ton _who will be happy to spend their time to teach you everything Caroline Bingley believes so difficult to get..."

She could only shook her head. Of course she was not interested in being more elegant than Charles' sister and the knowledge of what was fashionable for the _ton_ was not at all what was at the center of her preoccupations.

He pulled her against him and whispered in her ear.

"You, you exist only by yourself. You wouldn't be a nobody even if you weren't going to be my wife. You have charm, spirit and a brilliance Caroline Bingley will never have even if she covers herself with jewels. She has been constructed and built. You are a natural and, in my eyes, you need nothing to make you the most beautiful woman of the world." He sat up and they looked into each other's eyes. "But since you'll soon be Mrs. Darcy, you could your whole life shun the whole British elite and our children would still be Darcys. And being Darcys they will have more than a name, they will have a place where they belong and a position which comes with being member of the ruling families since William the Conqueror."

He gave her a tender kiss on the tip of her nose.

"You are in need of nobody and nothing but self confidence!"

He saw her eyes become brighter and her smile was as perfect as ever.

"Sorry, I..."

He stopped her once more.

"Don't be sorry, dear. Caroline played her game and even if I understand Charles deception and anger I'm not inclined to forget that I was as guilty as his sisters in his unhappiness. They're not innocent but then neither am I! Had they come to me and asked me, I would have given my blessing..."

"Then you are not upset with me?"

"Of course I'm upset, but only because you persist in believing that Caroline Bingley is in anything superior to you. You're much better than her, in blood, in manners and in humanity. Don't you dare continue believing she's able to best you in any field of life. Such a thing will never be possible..."

He kissed her lovingly.

"You convinced me to do what she never could and never would have. You'll be Mrs. Darcy and she will just have the pitiful honor to be a lengthy witness of your happiness." He shook his head. "Let her, and let's hope tat, one day, she'll discover your secret and find happiness. But I sincerely doubt it!"

* * *

"Mr. Darcy? Could we, please speak with you?"

Fitzwilliam turned around and looked at the two Gardiner boys who just appeared in his study. As were the Gardiner girls they were well bred and, when outside her rooms, behaved like real little gentlemen. They were quite liked by the staff who was always smuggling tidbits to their nursery.

"Yes Master Gardiner, what can I do for you?"

They looked at each other with that sort of look which was proof of a real inner trouble.

Fitzwilliam showed them the sofa and invited them to take place.

They did it and the eldest took a deep breath.

"Mr. Darcy, will papa come back?"

Fitzwilliam couldn't help but show his surprise.

"Why would you ask such a question, master Gardiner? Of course your father will come back. Or, if everything's well, you'll go back to London and join him at your home..."

The boys looked once more at each other.

"It's because of the war," said Philip, the eldest.

"People die in wars," said little Thomas with all the earnestness a five year old could muster.

"That's true, master Thomas," answered Fitzwilliam. "But since your papa is no soldier and under the efficient protection of Mr. Kennedy, he should not be exposed to any risk..."

Once more they looked at each other.

"But Mr. Kennedy is an enemy, is he not? Why is he protecting papa?"

_What a very good question... I'd hope having the answer to that one_.

"That's because of our family links with Mr. Kennedy's employer. He works for a cousin of mine and it seems that this cousin of mine takes great care of his family. And since I'm going to marry your cousin Elizabeth, you're becoming cousins of mine and since he is my cousin, cousins also to him... And that's why Mr. Kennedy even if he is an enemy of Great Britain can be a friend of the family."

Another look to the brother and Philip went on.

"But why are we at war and why is your cousin not with us?"

_Count on children to ask smart –and difficult-- questions_.

"You know perhaps that Great Britain has been invaded a long time ago by Frenchmen?"

"William the Conqueror," said Philip. "He vanquished Harold at the battle of Hastings... Thousand sixty six!"

"That's right, Master Philip and we Darcys were at the side of William when he came ashore in England. And that part of the family who came with William stayed and I'm the heir of this line of the Darcy family..."

Both boys nodded with total levity.

Fitzwilliam went on.

"But a part of the Darcys, the French d'Arcys who spell their name with a capital 'A' and an apostrophe after the 'd', has stayed behind and are still French while we, the Darcys of Pemberley, we became English..."

Philip nodded once more.

"That explains that you are on opposite sides. But then why are we at war with the French if the same families are here and there?"

_That one will be even more difficult_.

"That's called politics, boys. France and England are two different countries and they have different interests or to be more precise they have the same interests and they both want what is available without sharing with the other..."

This time it was Thomas who spoke.

"But sharing is a Christian virtue..."

_Time to waffle_...

"France is no longer a Christian country, Thomas. They renounced Christianity to endorse the cult of Wisdom..."

"Is not wisdom better then being a Papist?"

_And to add insult to injury they have a fanatic reverend as a teacher_..._ I'll have to speak with Mrs. Gardiner. She does perhaps not know that her sons are drilled in intolerance and sectarianism._..

"Better a Christian than some one who refuses the idea of the existence of God, gentlemen. Being a papist is perhaps sinful but it's less sinful than refusing to acknowledge God."

The two boys looked at each other and finally nodded their acceptation of the argument.

"Then your cousin is worse than a papist?"

_You did that to yourself, Fitzwilliam, go and find a way out of the trap_...

"France, as a country has turned it's back to God, but lots of Frenchmen continue to believe in God. So does my cousin, why else would he be so protective of a family he does not even know?"

"Then he is a Papist?"

_And now_?

"I don't know but it's not sure. There were always French protestants in France. He could be one of them. It would explain a lot..."

They both nodded their acceptation of his argument.

He had a problem to conceal his relief.

They came back to their prior subject.

"Will we have to go to war against our cousin?"

"I do believe this war will find an end a few years before you're of age to enlist into the King's Armies."

They seemed more disappointed than relieved.

"Will you go?"

Fitzwilliam could only took a deep breath.

Would he? Probably... Would he have to fight against d'Arcy. He hoped not and prayed for it.

He decided to stay on the side of safety.

"I don't know, gentlemen. It could be. If the King calls me, I'll go. But I have already taken all the precautions necessary to ensure the safety of all the member of my family. And since soon you'll be members of said family, you'll be protected too..."

Philip looked him directly in the eyes.

"And who will protect you, Mr. Darcy if you go to war?"

He chuckled.

"God, I hope, gentlemen and the prayers of the people who love me..."

They both swore to pray for him.

* * *

"What is it, dear, you look preoccupied..."

Fitzwilliam looked up and smiled. Elizabeth was there just in front of his table and he had not even heard her.

"I am!," said he. "I just had a conversation with the Gardiner boys and their preoccupations became my preoccupations. What will happen with you if I have to go to war? What if I die? What if..."

Elizabeth stopped him with a frown.

"And these are my cousins topics of conversation? My God! Why are they so preoccupied..."

"They are scared for their father and they are troubled with Kennedy's and d'Arcy's roles. They don't easily understand that an enemy could offer protection..."

"Poor darlings, I'll have to speak with them..."

She looked at Fitzwilliam.

"Really, dear you shouldn't think about such things. It will trouble your mood..."

"My mood is already troubled and what I said to convince them didn't convince me. I have no idea what the future will bring and I fear disaster."

She came to his side and leaned her head on his shoulder.

"We will get over this crisis. It gave you the courage to propose and it gave me the humility to accept. It will bring a lot of changes in our lives but it will not destroy us or our happiness, I feel it. The coming times will not be easy ones but we will overcome everything which comes our way. Together we'll do it..."

He looked at her and laughed.

"Two hours ago it was me who was trying to give you a new confidence...

"I never lacked confidence in us, dear. Only in me. I have known since I accepted the fact that we love each other that together we are stronger and more resilient than alone. Stay with me and we will find strength in each other..."

"It could happen that I'm forced to go to enlist myself in the Militia."

"We'll cross that bridge when we are there. For now, it's you and me and it's enough to overcome everything... Even your French cousin!"

"Were he alone I'd had no qualms but he is with thousands of his soldiers. I fear we are not enough for such a force..."

She smiled at him and kissed him on the forehead.

"We're more than we two, dear. The rest of the family will be there to help..." She laughed. "It could even be that your cousin has already something else on his mind and is no longer plotting to bring his invasion to an end..."

Fitzwilliam kissed her back and made a face.

"Don't count too much on that one... We Darcys are very well able to follow two goals at once." He shrugged. "Even, as I proved it, in two opposite directions..."

* * *

**Next chapter: London Encounters**

* * *


	36. London Encounters

Interesting people encountering each other.

* * *

**Chapter 36: London Encounters**

* * *

**London, Tuesday the eleventh August. Seventh day**

* * *

"You wanted to see me, Your Highness?"

The Prince of Wales, made the hint of a sitting bow and nodded his massive head. He was eating a late breakfast or an early lunch and quite a lot of pastry was piling up in front of him.

"Indeed, I did, Miss Bennet..."

He pointed toward the armchair opposite him and invited Jane to sit down.

When she was seated a servant came immediately and placed a cup and two plates in front of her.

"Please do me the favor to take part to my second breakfast. The chocolate is divine and the pastries come from the best baker of London. He has always refused to work at the Palace and so, because of him, I'm forced to eat two breakfasts in the morning. The first to still my hunger and the second to satisfy my unreasonable taste for this scoundrel's pastry..."

Jane smiled to the servant and let him pour a cup of chocolate.

She tasted it and a surprised smile came to her face.

Divine was indeed the word to use when speaking of such a beverage.

The Prince was quite satisfied to see her reaction.

No falsity in this particular young person.

"I wanted to thank you for your kindness with my father. Since he's fallen into this illness his guilt for my aunt's death has taken even more of his thoughts. Seeing you and believing you were Caroline's daughter had brought him solace even if it had done nothing to cure him..."

He sighed.

"But I do fear there's nothing to do to cure him... Or if it is none of our British, German or Italian doctors knows anything about it."

Jane was a little intimidated. After all that "walrus" of a prince –It was how the servants spoke of him– was the Regent of the Empire. She smothered a smile. Till July 1801 he was probably one of the most powerful persons in the world. Since the first of August that fact had become... subject to lots of discussions.

"I didn't know he was His Majesty, had I..."

The Prince of Wales stopped her with an energetic hand sign.

"You did what you did without the least knowledge of whom if was you were helping. I appreciate it even more. Courtiers are aplenty. Real compassionate persons are a rarity..."

She looked at him and her eyes focused on him.

"If I do understand the layout of power, Your Highness, you have the power to choose who's surrounding you. If there are more courtiers than honest persons around you, who is to blame?"

The Prince was just swallowing a big piece of his favorite chocolate roll and he could do nothing but spit what was left on his plate.

Plate that disappeared and was replaced by another --clean one-- in less than a second.

A very special servant had immediately be summoned and had helped with a few energetic strokes on the Prince's back...

After a few very long seconds of coughing the Prince was, once more, able to speak.

"You don't have scruples to say what you think, do you?"

"I was raised in the belief that the truth is what's important, Your Highness. And if a man who has all the powers is badly surrounded I don't see who he will be able to blame for him keeping bad company? God?"

"Ouch..." the Prince said. "You seem to partake to the feelings of the majority of my subjects. You don't like me..."

Jane could only shook her head.

"I neither like nor dislike you, Your Highness. I was raised in the belief that a King or a Regent should do its utmost to be an example..."

"And I'm not?"

Jane made no effort to hide her indignation.

"For gluttony, there's no doubt you are! And that's probably only one as rich and powerful as you could challenge you as an example..."

"Nothing else?"

"Your whoring is the most unseemly behavior for a King or Regent that I could imagine..."

The Prince sat up and leaned toward her.

"You would have preferred me to pluck young beauties in southern Estates like your French lover?"

Jane's indignation increased.

"He's no lover of mine and I wasn't plucked! He saved my life and the lives of friends and sisters with only his courage and his sword. Had you been in his place, you wouldn't have made five yards in the time he spotted us, came to us and saved us... I'm not even sure you're able to walk without being supported from all sides by an army of swarthy servants!"

That last remark was too much for the Prince who burst out laughing!

That stopped Jane's diatribe with more effectiveness than an ongoing fight would have.

"My, my, aren't we angry? Never in my whole life have I encountered a person with enough guts to be really truthful with me... Not on my appearance and not on my eating habits... "

"One comes with the others..." shot Jane without thinking. "You should eat less you would have less problems with your appearance and your health."

The Prince nodded enthusiastically.

"I know it, that what mother always said. _She could!_ There was no risk of my throwing her into the Tower..."

"Such a risk doesn't exist for me neither," continued Jane. "You don't want to anger him too much. With my being brought here you've send a message which should be clearly understood as an 'invitation'... Had you put me into the Tower the content of the message would have been quite different. As would have been his reactions."

The Prince of Wales' look on her changed.

His guest was beautiful, there was no doubt to that, but she was also passionate and clever. No surprise this d'Arcy fell for her.

"You do believe he will come..."

He saw a light frown appear on her forehead. It soon was smooth out by her sheer will.

"I couldn't say..."

She was indeed sure of it...

A smile came on the Prince's face.

"You're lying there... You know he will come!"

"I'm not lying! Nobody knows the future! I no more than anybody else!"

"But you fear he will, isn't it?"

She nodded.

"He will not resist to the desire to answer to your _invitation_..."

"That's what I hoped for!"

"You won't capture him easily," said she.

"I have no desire to capture him, Miss Bennet! He's perhaps their leader but he is only one of seventy thousand. And even if I count only their leaders, he is only one in a dozen. He not alone and he is the only one who's able to reign in some of his generals. I have no desire to see Duroc unleash his armies on London. I'm perhaps a glutton and a debauchee but I'm no fool! I know where I stand and what I can still win. Seeing him and discussing with him outside of an official meeting will be my only chance to get acceptable conditions to our surrender. And that chance it's you who are going to get it to me!"

He saw that she didn't really believe him but that was all right. He had seen what he wanted to see. She was honest and forthright and she was the type of woman who could make a man hesitate between her and his career. And if she could get this d'Arcy sooner out of his warring business, it would be a real opportunity for his generals and his troops...

"You want to surrender?"

"Wanting? Never, never and never!" shouted the Prince. "But I'm a man who can face an awful reality. And the truth is that I do not have the troops to win this war here in Great Britain. And calling back my colonial troops would be playing them into his hands and to their destruction. So I will have to discuss a truce with him. And I want to discuss it before my back is against the famous wall..." He winked at her. "And I will use you to the very end. I'll threaten you and I'll take advantage of his feelings for you! I'll do anything in my power to get more than I would have got without you! Do you have a problem with that?"

She shrugged her shoulders.

"And what? I'm here and I'm your prisoner. You could throw me in the Tower or even in the Thames if you wanted to... I'm perhaps the person he cares for but that doesn't have changed me into a French supporter. I'm still one of your subject and all you can get for England and the Empire will be very welcome."

The Prince's face was lighted by a happy smile.

"That's my girl! I had my doubts when I first saw you that would understand but I'm quite satisfied with this little chat." He pointed toward little apple pies. "Try my little pies. They are wonderful. And with a sip of hot chocolate, they are even better..."

The rest of their 'chat' had been friendly and she had even had the opportunity to give the Prince her opinion about what he should do.

What he would do of her opinion was his business.

* * *

"Master Gardiner... What a joy to see you in good health! We were all very worried. Is everybody else in good health?"

"They are safe in the North, Jonas. That's the reason I could come. Knowing them perfectly sure gave me the opportunity to come back to London to try to save what's savable."

The door opened a second time and Charles Bingley came in.

"That's Charles Bingley, Jonas, son of Charles Bingley senior who you have, if I remember well, known..."

"Indeed, Master Gardiner. I remember this gentleman's father very well. You worked together..."

"Yes, Jonas and I believe I'll have the opportunity to do for the son what the father did for me..."

"I'm very happy to welcome you in our House, Mr. Bingley."

"Thank you, Jonas," said young Bingley while bowing to the Gardiner's butler who showed nothing but was very satisfied to see that the young man has enough wit to acknowledge him. He had a charming smile and, if he remembered well he had a love affair with Miss Jane Bennet.

"Please, Jonas could you give orders to prepare the blue room? Mr. Bingley will be our guest the next few days."

Jonas couldn't help but make a face.

"Sorry, Sir, but the blue room is occupied! Miss Lydia is currently occupying it..."

"Miss Lydia? Is she alone?"

Jonas shook his head.

"No Sir, she is with her father and sister!"

"Miss Bennet is here" asked Charles with hope in his voice...

"Miss Mary Bennet, Sir. If I'm well informed, Miss Bennet is still the Prince Regent's guest at the Palace."

"At the Palace?" asked Mr. Gardiner.

"The Prince regent's Guest?" asked Charles Bingley.

"It's a long story, gentlemen," said a voice coming from upstairs. "I'll be glad to inform you of all the details as soon as you have refreshed yourself. From the dust covering your coats and your weary faces I'll bet that you have made the journey from Pemberley in a record time..."

Mr. Gardiner opened his arms and hugged his brother.

"Edward, I'm so glad to see you again. I was worried when I was told that you were going to Rosings..."

Mr. Bennet hugged back.

"No need to be worried, we had the best protection available be it in Kent or here in London..."

"You'll tell us..."

He looked at Charles and himself.

"But you are right, we need a bath and a change..."

He turned toward Jonas.

"Jonas, there are a few people outside who will be our guests. Please find quarters for them and don't be afraid they look fearsome but they are, as for the time being, on our side..."

"Would it be Kennedy?" asked Mr. Bennet.

"Indeed," answered his brother. "He and his men escorted us the whole way. Without them we wouldn't be here yet..."

He looked at Jonas.

"Said Mr. Kennedy will be guest at my table, tonight, Jonas. Please take care of that particular guest."

* * *

"How's Jane?"

The question came from her uncle but Charles Bingley was feverishly listening.

"She's the most lucky from us all," answered Lydia. "She has an apartment, five maids, a private dressing room full of fanciful dresses and..."

"She's fine," interrupted Mr. Bennet. "Last time we saw her she was fighting against her tears and making efforts to look happy but, under the circumstances, she was quite fine..."

Charles looked at him.

"What circumstances?"

Mr Bennet looked at the young man and decided that even if he would have preferred him to d'Arcy it was not his choice to make and if Charles had lost Jane he had had enough opportunities to secure her a few months ago.

No reason to hid him the truth.

"The Prince Regent having learned from Lady de Bourgh that _monsieur d'Arcy_ had shown an interest in Jane had us 'kidnapped' to his Palace in order to lure the Frenchman to my daughter's side..." He sighed. "We were allowed to quit, she wasn't..."

"I agreed to stay," said Lydia. "It would have been better for Jane not to be left alone..."

Her father looked at her with a little smile.

"Next time you want something, think it through before going into one of your tantrums. I'm quite sure you're really interested in your sister's welfare but clearly it came only second to your own fancies. And so you're here and she is alone at the Palace..."

Lydia made a face.

"You would prefer me an hypocrite?"

"I would prefer you a little less selfish, dear. Had you been less self centered you would have got what you wanted... So..."

"Will he come?"

Charles knew that if he came, he would lose his last chance in a race he has lost because of his own weak will.

"No doubt he will," answered Kennedy who was sitting at the table. "That man fears neither God nor devil. He went into the most heavily guarded Irish prison, killed with his sword half of the garrison and came out unscathed. They won't even notice that he is there. Perhaps her disappearance will give them a clue but I doubt that he will be willing to put her in a situation where she risks something. He'll get in, reassure her, perhaps kill the Prince Regent and then bail out." He snickered. "They will believe their Palace's haunted..."

Mr. Bennet couldn't help but try to give a little hope to the sympathetic young man.

"You should go to the Palace and ask for the permission to see her. I'm sure she will be glad to see a friendly face... And you could speak..."

* * *

"Charles... I'm so happy that somebody could come..."

He kissed her hand.

It was the first time and she did notice it.

"Sorry to be so late, but we were in Pemberley and we came back as soon as possible. It was my intention to go on to Rosings but I learned your presence at Mr. Gardiner's and I came immediately. I was afraid they would not let me in but it seems I was wrong..."

"I'm confined here, but people are allowed to come whenever they want..."

She smiled at him.

"How's Lizzie?"

He smiled back. He didn't come to speak of Darcy's happiness but he would not deny her the slightest pleasure.

"She's as happy as it is possible at five days from her wedding with the man she loves..."

Jane's happiness let her speechless. She had, somehow, known Darcy's feeble for Elizabeth from the first day on and she had, meanwhile, guessed that Darcy was not innocent in Charles speedy disappearance from her life.

They looked at each other and Jane could feel that her love for Charles Bingley was not dead. Another flame was burning in her heart but that flame had not extinguished the first one. It could be relived. It could...

He took something out of his jacket.

"That's for you, Your sister Kittie gave it to me. She believed you would need a recharge..."

She took the little bottle and her smiled increased.

"My favorite perfume... Each spring and summer Lizzie and I make it... It's lilac and rose spirit. We always considered that there was no better fragrance for either of us..."

"And you were right, Jane... It fits to you better than to their original flowers..."

For a second Jae had the hope that he would come to her, take her in his arms and madly kiss her.

_He _would have.

_He_ would already be hugging her.

She looked at him and tried to convey her longing.

But he did not understand. Or feared what he was understanding...

Whatever it was, he never came.

At the end of the evening there was only one fire left burning in her heart.

* * *

**Next chapter: London dreams**


	37. London Dreams

Where the bait fulfills his goal.

* * *

**Chapter 37: London Dreams**

* * *

**London, Royal Palace, Wednesday the twelfth August. Eighth day**

* * *

She would never confess it to anybody –except Lizzie for whom she had no secrets– but that evening before drifting into sleep she had cried. Finding herself alone in her apartment and, for the first time in many years, with no helpful shoulder to welcome her anguish had been more than she could endure. But sleep had finally come bringing back her old self.

* * *

And then the dreamless sleep had began to change. She felt herself glide into a dreamworld of unknown sensations.

Featherlight strokes brushed her skin, stirring marvelously suggestive dreams. Kisses, so light she had to force herself to remember them, were all over her face.

A smile lighted up her sleeping face.

Since she was dreaming, could she dream of what she really lusted for?

It was her dream, wasn't it? Within it's cloudy boundaries, she could behave as she willed it.

Even a little wanton behavior could be tried...

Nobody would ever know.  
Her smile grew and her sleep became more agitated.

The light touches became caresses and kisses and she could even feel the light breeze of a breath fondling her skin.

A very smooth thing slided over her smiling lips.

It came and turned. Came again. Became more forward and parted her lips.

Out of sheer reflex her tongue shot out of the cage of her teeth to go and meet the intruder.

Their meeting was the strangest thing which had ever happened to her.

Like a subtle dance of touches and strokes.

Like...

Her eyes shot open.

That was not a dream! That was reality...

She tried crawling out of her bed but a strong hand caught her lips before she could say anything and a body strapped itself around hers holding it in a very tight but gentle grip.

"I loved your dream. Had it only gone on..."

She was squirming like mad, her heart battling in her chest when she was finally able to understand the voice.

"Please, don't be afraid. You don't risk anything. I'll protect you..."

She immediately recognized the voice but that was not what calmed her.

It was sheer indignation that stopped her wiggling.

A second she was battling against him and the next she was perfectly calm.

His hand stopped hushing her.

How could he dare! How could he be so impudent? He was there, intruding on her privacy and he was playing the benign protector.

She looked at the pale circle were she suspected his face.

"And who will protect me against you?" asked she in a husky voice.

She felt him smile.

"Nobody. Because I represent no harm for you."

She tried to went away, he stopped her.

"Please let me go..."

He felt that she was no longer struggling and his weight disappeared.

She felt that he laid himself at her side.

She took hold of her blanket and covered herself as much as possible.

Her curiosity and her eyes stayed on him.

"You just assaulted me..." said she, her indignation coming back.

"Assaulted, what an ugly word..." came the answer. "I just placed a gentle kiss on your lips..."

"One? It seems to me that your kisses come in battalions..."

He sighed.

"That's not the truth. Since I never interrupted that first kiss, it was, technically, only one very long kiss..."

She frowned and he felt it in her voice.

"You took advantage of my dream, shame on you!"

Se felt him shook his head.

"Never! It was the most beautiful dream in my whole life. I will never be ashamed of him..."

His voice become a silent whisper.

"Nor of you..."

She blushed.

He went on.

"Never will I forget the tip of your tongue greeting mine..."

Her blush became so crimson that she was sure he should be feeling its heat.

"It was a simple reflex..."

He sighed melodramatically.

"I love your reflexes..."

He let himself fall on the bed at her side.

"As I love you..."

And then the silence fell.

It was amazing how much a shared silence could express...

* * *

He was a little ashamed.

When he had felt the tip of her tongue coming towards his, he had lost his self control. He was only there to touch her lightly in order to wake her so they could speak.

But when he sensed her tongue responding, he just lost it.

He let the passion in him take over and what should have been a respectful and demure kiss became a passionate longing and a force he knew he would never be able to control.

He knew he should have been more controlled. He should have been a tender guide not a passionate lover and when she responded he just blew it.

But even dreaming she had responded and he would never forget her arms closing behind his neck and her tongue searching his.

Once more he sighed.

"Jane Bennet, you are the dream of my life..."

He sat up and looked at her, his head resting on his hand. He bend over her and placed the sofest of all kisses on the tip of her nose.

"Jane Bennet, _je vous adore, vous êtes unique et je vous veux à mes côtés_...1"

* * *

She had no problems to understand him. Her French was fluent ad he spoke it with a singing accent which reminded her of southern France.

She let the words flow and she knew these words were founding their roots in true love and not in the empty repertoire of an old experienced lover.

She was listening to his soul and that soul could only speak French.

She basked in the sun of an unknown and not yet experienced bliss.

* * *

Eons flowed by while her happiness was unequaled.

And suddenly the implications of his presence stroke her.

She sat up and looked at him.

"You're crazy to have come. They are going to catch you, to jail you... Perhaps hang you..."

She never knew how he could do it but one second he was lying at her side, the second later he had his hands on her shoulders and he was astride her.

She saw his smile lighting their universe.

"And would such a little incident upset you?"

And at this exact moment her situation hit her with all its unreal humor.  
Here was she, in one of the Royal Palace's apartment, lying in bed with d'Arcy astride her and -there was no other word- proposing to her. It was the most surreal situation she could envision.

Nobody would ever believe her.

She burst out laughing.

Her answer found him flabbergasted.

She sensed his fear and her hands found his. She knew at an inner level she hadn't known having that he needed reassurance. Immediately.

"Of course it would upset me to see the most excitingly charming man of my acquaintance be hanged."

She felt him relax.

"Excitingly charming?"

His lips searched hers and she made no effort to turn her head.

He painted with his lips the most subtle caress she could have imagined.

"Excitingly charming?"

His lips besieged her nose, her eyes, her eyelids and her ears...

"Excitingly charming?" whispered he while nibbling her ears.

She found no words to answer.

But she knew what to do...

* * *

This time he was able to master his passion.

He wouldn't force himself on her. Not like this, not when she was so vulnerable.

He wanted her willing and with her free will.

His lips and hands and tongue had roamed her body but nothing else.

She had whimpered and pleasure had exploded more than once but she knew that he had not crossed that certain limit which would have made her definitely his.

After a long time of shared feelings and passion she looked at him.

"Why?"

He had no difficulties to understand of what she was speaking.

"It's not the right time, love... I won't force you into a situation where there's no longer a choice. What we have just done is unseemly and against every standard of British society but nothing irreparable has happened. You're still free to choose another man without loosing a shred of you honor..."

She sat up.

"You proposed..."

"That I did and I'm very resolute to marry you, _mon amour_, but I'm not willing to take the slightest risk having you believe I forced you. I'll give you the chance to bail out of this relationship to the very last moment..."

She shook her head.

"I won't bail out."

"I very much hope so but that doesn't mean I will risk to jeopardize the trust I want to deserve. I would like you to really believe that you are the most important creature in my life. It's your happiness that counts. If you have the slightest doubt about us then I want you to have the real prospect to decide it won't happen..."

He sighed.

"And there's that little problem of us being on opposite sides of warring people. I won't accept that your feelings for me makes you an outcast or worse, a target..."

"It won't happen... I have no importance in this country. I'm not aristocracy and my father is not even what could be called wealthy..."

He said nothing to counter her arguments. She had had no importance a week ago. Now, and her presence here in the Palace was proof enough, _that _had changed. And her importance would be even greater the day somebody made their relationship and feelings known.

But he would cross that bridge when he had need to...

"I know, but I must insist, I'm not willing to take the slightest risk. Your safety is of the utmost importance. And I would like to have it stay our secret for as long as possible."

He sensed her shook her head.

"I won't hide my decision from my family..."

"I don't ask you to hide it from them, but I would like to speak with your father before you! Its a matter of honor..."

"You'll ask for my hand?"

"It's custom, isn't it?"

"It is..." said she while hesitating. "But I'm not sure how Papa will react..."

"He'll be horrified, what else? He has probably had another type of son in law in mind when he dreamed of your future husband."

She sighed.

"We spoke a lot these last few days and he gave me the right to choose without looking at him or at the family. It's my life and I'm free to choose the man I want."

"He knew about me..." he hesitated. "Us?"

"There was no us," said she. "Not when I spoke to him for the first time. 'Us' came later..."

"But there is a 'us'? Isn't it?"

He felt her nodding.

"I'm glad. But you should perhaps reconsider, love. I'm not an easy man to wed. I'm a man of the sword and war could very well be my constant companion for the next twenty years."He took a long breath. "And I'm too passionate to let my wife alone and waiting in some rich mansion somewhere in France or Italy. I will ask her to be at my side most of the time."

He turned around and took her hand. He fondled her with kisses and light strokes.

"In my position I will have to lie to you. There are secrets I will not share with you just in order to protect you. And from time to time, I'll use you to spread some lies I believe necessary to further my goals.Outside from my never ending love for you, you'll never be sure that what I'm saying is the truth or a hoax. A ll in all, it could be a very taxing life. I would really understand that a sane woman had the good sense to prefer a serene and calm life side by side with a perfect gentleman whose only thrill will be his yearly fox hunt and, probably, his wife's pregnancies..."

She came nearer and her foreheads came together.

"I'm not as courageous as you think, _monsieur d'Arcy_. But neither am I so enthralled with a quiet and uneventful life as you seem to believe. I'm very willing to be at the side of my husband as long and as often as possible. And if it's a certain mysterious Frenchman, I know he will do his utmost to protect me and the rest of our family..."

"My word on it, _mon amour._ But do be careful and think about what could be your life. I'm not yet ready to settle down and raise my children in a lovely rural mansion somewhere in a British County. I'm sure to go to America and I'm quite certain that, some day or the other in the future, I'm going to settle an old bill with my favorites Turkish enemies. You could be facing a life of wandering and hardship..."

He kissed her.

"Not that you will ever miss riches or such comfort one can buy with money. I'll see that you'll get what's best in every country we journey. But there are countries were their best will seem poor to a member of the Gentry..."

She laughed.

"As I said I'm no Aristocracy. I know how to live with a very sparse income. I even know to handle hay and forks and how to drive a chariot. And I'm a rather good horsewoman. I'll survive..."

He sighed heavily.

"I don't want you to survive. I want you to blossom. I want you to have everything a woman of your beauty could get if she were at the side of the right husband..."

She kissed him again.

"I'll be at the side of the right husband! Give me love and give me truthfulness and I'll have all a woman can ask for."

He smiled and they kissed for a very long eternity.

He broke when he sensed that his passion was galloping full speed back.

"I'll have to go, _mon amour._ If I stay I'll do things we will both regret. And, even if it's late, I have still work to do. I've been summoned and it would be very impolite not to respond to that very precise invitation..."

He sensed her stiffen.

"I won't kill anybody, I promise," said he while hugging her. "I didn't kill the four agents who where taking turns at looking at your sleep, though they would have got what was their due. I hate the idea of them looking at you undressing! I hesitated but then I felt that you wouldn't like it if I killed them out of unaltered jealousy. They are sleeping and will suffer of a horrible hanghover, that's all. "

He kissed her again.

"As for my visit to oour host, it will be perfectly tame and friendly. I'm even grateful he brought you here. Would you still be in Kent I wouldn't have been able to see you for weeks. So I got the chance to have the only answer I was calling for."

She tried to speak but he stopped her with a caressing finger.

"No, please, don't be more precise. I have proposed and I have given you all the time you want to consider my offer. Don't rush your answer. Think it through. Speak to your parents and to your sister. I swear I won't take it badly if you would decide to stay on the safe side of life and turn your back to adventures and wars..."

He stood up and dressed.

"I'll see you in Pemberley, love... Soon..."

A last kiss and he disappeared through the window.

* * *

Sleep came surprisingly easily. She would consider the entire situation. She would think of all the implications. But she already knew what would come out of _that._

She smiled and slid back into a very sensual dreamworld.

* * *

**Next chapter : London Discussions**

* * *

1 / _Jane Bennet, I adore you, you are unique and I want you at my side_...


	38. London Discussions

Where we see that all awakenings are not of a sensual nature.

* * *

**Chapter 38: London Discussions**

* * *

**London, Royal Palace, Wednesday the twelfth August. Eighth day**

* * *

Something cold playing on his face pulled him slowly out of a dreamless night.

Most of his nights were dreamless since he was using drugs to find sleep.

And his massive bulk did nothing to ensure a restful night.

The cold thing continued to stroke his face, his cheeks, until he finally awoke.

He had no need to wonder what was happening.

He knew.

His guest had finally arrived.

"Could you please stop playing with that thing, you could hurt somebody and since I doubt that you would do me the favor of cutting off your head I fear I'm the most probable prospect."

"I had to do something to wake you, Your Highness. A little noise was not sufficient and since I came this far without killing anybody I was reluctant to make my presence known..."

"Kind of you," answered the Prince of Wales. "They are not as good as yours but they are the last I possess."

"Call in the reserve, Your Highness. Let us have some sport!"

The Prince of Wales grunted and began to slowly wiggle his massive bulk.

"Can you help me? I hate conversing while laying prone. I'd like to sit..."

"It will be my pleasure, Your Highness. What's the procedure?"

"Two men to lift me in a sitting position and one to put half a dozen cushions in my back..."

There was a small period of silence.

"Well, I see how we could proceed. Please do not worry I'm not going to kill you."

There was a smothered noise followed by the clonk of a sword point hitting the wood of the panels above his head.

"The cushions are in place, Your Highness. A last little lift and we should be able to speak."

Something wooden was placed into his hands.

"Please hold my scabbard at both its ends with your hands..."

He did what he was told.

"Ready?"

"As I will ever be..."

"Well, than..."

He felt a weight climbing on his bed, the scabbard being pulled and he just held on...

Two seconds later he felt the cushions falling on his bed behind him and himself being pushed back.

It was not perfect but as good as his men servants could do most of the time.

And this d'Arcy had just done it alone.

That was an information he hadn't got yet but it was an important one. This d'Arcy was not only a competent strategist, he was also an athlete. Last time he fell, it had been the work of six guards to help him stand up. He was sure this d'Arcy could have pulled him to his feet all alone. Hateful man!

"Sorry for the hole in the panel," said d'Arcy. "Next time I'll bring better tools. A sword is not the best means for certain domestic jobs..."

The Prince exhaled heavily.

"Don't bother yourself. As I see my situation, you just damaged what will be yours in a few days. No reason for me to be concerned with what is already no longer mine..."

"Should I interpret your last words as a surrender?"

"Of course not... I won't lose my face so easily. I could contemplate a truce and a peace treaty but of course never a surrender..."

He felt that d'Arcy had jumped back on the floor.

He had done it without making a noise.

_An athlete and an acrobat._..

He couldn't help but hate this man with every fiber of his being. For what he knew, this man was even older than himself and he had the sheer gall to be, at forty two, everything that he never had been and -he was sure of it- never could be...

"You should eat less and train, Your Highness," said d'Arcy who -how could he dare- could also read thoughts. "You wouldn't mold yourself into a real warrior but you could come back to a more human shape..."

He chuckled.

"To be on the run, it's easier..."

He decided not to enter into that sort of game. He had a keen intellect but he was in no way willing to get the proof that his enemy was _also_ brighter than himself.

"Could you light a lamp?" asked the Prince. "I won't be a problem, I promise. But I really like it to see the faces of the men I speak to..."

There was a little rasping noise and a flame appeared just at his right where his servants always placed his candelabrum.

A few seconds later they were looking at each other.

"If I shout you will kill me..."

"Probably not. You're too useful. Then it depends on what happens next. If nobody steers, you'll probably come out of it with a headache. But if they come storming at me, I'll hurt you in oder to make you cry -so that they know that you are alive and forfeit using fireweapons- and then I'll have to kill all the guards who will come to your rescue. And when it is done and the last one is out or fleeing, I'll let it be known that you are without protection. And I'll stay to have a good look at the hanging..."

The Prince of Wales was quite unsure if his counterpart was joking or not. He didn't look like joking.

"That's not very kind..."

D'Arcy's smile became more impish.

"You should try being loved and admired... Bonaparte knows that part backwards!"

"Too late for that, I fear. I was never loved and I will never be admired. You' ll have to deal with me, there's nobody else."

D'Arcy nodded.

"I'm already aware of that!'

They looked at each other.

"Your Highness, you invited me by kidnapping somebody you knew I care for and that could have been very upsetting. But since it seems she was treated very kindly, I'm able to choose to remain calm. If we add to the kindness of your hospitality the fact that you did not lay out a real trap, I'm rather open to a little friendly chat. I suppose that was what you had in mind."

The Prince nodded.

"It was never my intention to try to capture you. I wanted to know you and I was sure you wouldn't resist the temptation to come 'rescue' her and if the possibility presented itself to come and brag in front of me."

D'Arcy bowed.

"So you read me rightly. I'm impressed! But you should have been more careful with your guest's watchers. I was quite angry to find those men peeping at her. I was tempted to cut their heads and wake you with their blood!"

"Thank God you choose otherwise. Are they still alive..."

"She wouldn't have liked it if I'd killed them. So I only knocked them out. Perhaps a little harshly, but they are all still alive..."

"We prepared no trap, I'll give you my word if you want. I wanted to see you, to speak to you. There's no better way to judge an enemy that to have the opportunity to speak to him."

He winked at d'Arcy.

"And sometimes you even get an opening to bribe him. Who knows?"

D'Arcy could only nod. Sometimes indeed you got real opportunities. But _that _ran both sides.

"If you surrender now, I could probably manage to ensure you and your family an acceptable way to make a strategic retreat to the destination of your choice..."

"No doubt, you could, monsieur d'Arcy. But you you know very well that I cannot surrender. Not with how I'm seen by my people. I must play the role of the last defender of the Empire. If I want to have a chance to reign someday on these lands, it's my job to stay and fight..."

D'Arcy shook his head and sat on his doctors armchair. At one time he had displaced it to put it near the window. Probably to be near his chosen exit.

"Don't be a fool. You have no real choice and you know it. My troops are already occupying the south of England and we have begun to go North. With no troops to counter me you'll be besieged in London within a month. And don't count on the other European monarchies. They will know what's in their best interest. And helping a vanquished England won't be on their agenda for a very long time. The British Empire is alone, Your Highness, and with all your troops in India you'll have nothing to stop us in our invasion."

D'Arcy sat up and bent towards the bed.

"I have already won, Your Highness. The only reason I am not overrunning you is my desire to limit civilian casualties. If my goal had been the destruction of the land it could already have been done. There's nothing left..."

George wouldn't agree even if it was the truth.

"The will to fight is still there! Great Britain will not go down without a last fight..."

D'Arcy shook once more his head.

"Great Britain has no army worth a dam. Your militias will fight if you order them to and I'll destroy them. You could probably try to hire mercenaries but do you really believe a mercenary captain will accept to throw his troops in an already lost fight?"

D'Arcy stood up and wandered along the walls looking at the Prince's fine collection of paintings.

"The Empire is over extended, Your Highness. With foreign troops already ashore you've lost all possibilities to turn the tide. Even more so because of the mistrust the British people feel against you. They would follow a charismatic leader. But you?"

He looked at the bulk of the Heir of the throne.

"Do you really believe you are the leader who will be able to summon them around him?"

He shook his head.

"I wouldn't follow someone who is nicknamed the whale or the walrus... And I heard a few more sobriquets I would not dare to repeat in front of you... When the magnitude of my victory is known there will be no one left to accept to die for an obese German prince who's a customary patron to all of London's whores..."

That last remark did hurt but George would never accept his defeat on that particular point.

"Only the funny ones," countered he. "And in my world going to the whores is not considered a _faute de goût_..."

"There exist the same rules in the world of the tomcats but _they_ are righteous enough not to try to convince the rest of the world that they are superior beings!"

"God," whistled the Prince. "Your tongue is sharper than your funny sword..."

"A souvenir of my Asian studies. I learned everything about the sword and even more about the power of words. I suppose my aunt did give you all the details about both?"

There was a lull in the conversation.

How could he know about his aunt's letter? Who was spying for him? Or was the better question: who was not?

George decided the silence was not to his benefit.

"She did!" answered he with a smile. "She has quite a few interesting opinions on rather extraordinary matters."

"Even if her advice on strategic matters are worth looking at, do never forget that she is a dangerous snake with poisoned fangs. And she's the worst gossip I have ever encountered."

"Welcome to the world of family relations! I have brothers I'd like to hide to the world so dumb they are. And my father is as crazy as it comes."

"I hear he has his moments of intelligence."

"And that's the worst of it. Some of his counselors are literally waiting upon his windows of clear sight to undermine my decisions. Each time they can, they come back on taken decisions with parts of speeches of my father which had the semblance of sanity..."

D'Arcy looked at the Prince through half closed eyes.

"If this was just a demand to see your father dispatched, please be more precise in your demands. I could do it... I could have done it with my own father, I won't hesitate with the crazy father of some one else..."

The Prince gave himself a few minutes to bask in the perspective of being King and never again having some one speaking against him because some of his father's babble could be considered as an order.

But no, he could not let himself follow that peculiar path.

"You would like it, wouldn't you?"

"Indeed, I would. It would give me such great opportunities to slander your name. You'd be the most hated King of all England's history..."

D'Arcy smiled a snake's smile.

"But you would be King," he singsonged. "It's perhaps worth the public hatred."

D'Arcy came and sat on his bed. He had plenty of space to put his light frame on it.

"I could even made it look as if one of your brothers would have been the murderer. Which one do you want to see beheaded?"

George denied his inner wish with a powerful shake of the head.

No he would not let himself be manipulated...

_He_ was the manipulator.

"You're quite the Devil, monsieur d'Arcy..."

"Only one of his tools, Your Highness. As you are yourself..."

George decided that was not a topic he wanted to discuss with this man.

"Since you're here, let's speak of your goals. What will you do in the near future?"

"Apart from taking hold of all of Great Britain?"

"That I already have made up!"

D'Arcy looked at the face of his counterpart.

Why not? There were informations he could share without risking to lose his momentum.

"Let's begin with my academic prospects..."

He smiled at the Prince questioning eyes.

"I was able to come as fast as tonight because I was in Oxford where I had a long chat with the deans and professors of the University. And since I know that one of my armies has entered Cambridge, the same must have happened there."

"The same?"

"We're preparing a removal. Within a month, all of your famous teachers will be sailing with their books and apparata to Corsica where the French Republic is creating world's greatest University. We will invite there Europe's scientists and scholars. Beginning with your esteemed British scientists. They'll love the climate change, I'm sure..."

The Prince of Wales looked at him with surprise in his eyes.

"Why would you do such a thing? Why deport all these scholars?"

"As a matter of fact I'm deporting all your elites, Your Highness. The scientific elite is just privileged because they go to Corsica and not to Louisiana. I have studied a very long time and I came to the conclusion that to further scientific progress one needs a concentration of minds! We will regroup the best minds of the world and we will finance their researches and we will get such an advantage that it will take a long time to anybody to catch up..."

The Prince of Wales chuckled.

"And this deportation had nothing to do with their refusal to let you in twenty five years ago?"

"Of course it has. They did me a great service and I'm paying back. They don't know it yet but I'm going to transform their lives and the future of all mankind. In less than a year they will thank me..."

"As will Great Britain?"

D'Arcy could only shrug.

"I'm no Pythias, I have no idea of what the future will be portent of. I'll do my best to convince the people of England, Wales, Scotland and Ireland that French rulers are in no way worse than Hanoverian ones..."

The Prince shook his head.

"You really don't like us."

"I don't like leeches. My father was one of the worst, I know everything about them. There should be virtue in a ruler's line. And, from what I can judge, there's none in Britain's reigning Dynasty."

"You see some elsewhere?"

D'Arcy shook his head.

"There you have a point. Most of Europe's rulers are not worth the bullet to shoot them. Perhaps young Nicolas of Russia. He believes in reforms and more participation by the people."

"He should! His land is the most despotic land spot of Europe. And where do you found virtue in a regicide?"

"From all the informations I could get, he has nothing to do with his father's demise. The old king was killed by a group of discontent Boyards who believed that the son would be easier to handle. They'll soon understand their mistake."

"You look also at Russia?"

"I look at the whole world, Your Highness. This world is dying because of too much rulers. What this world need is more peace and less Monarchs. I'll do my best to give it both."

"With Napoleon as a ruler?"

"Why not? He has shown that he has the backbone and the foresight to be a real ruler. All right, he's not perfect. He likes money and women and power. Not unlike some Hanoverian Prince Regent, isn't he? But, contrary to you, he has proven that he has the know-how to be loved by his troops and his people..."

Finally, he shook his head.

"But who's the ruler is not the important thing. I'll support anyone who knows how to rule a country, how to manage an economy and how to treat justly his people. If he has these qualities, I could renounce at his being virtuous. But it would be with lots of regrets..."

"Are you virtuous?"

"No, but then I know that it would be way too dangerous to let me rule the world! That's too powerful a job to give to someone like me. I would surely abuse the power coming with it. Better for the world with me being the ruler's best henchman..."

He stood up and went to the candelabrum.

"I'm sorry but I have another job awaiting me... I fear it's time for me to go."

He looked a last time at the prince of Wales.

"I'll be awaiting a proposition. I'll keep Duroc on leash for a few days more. He won't accept much more. He will not come directly against London. He is a great believer in the role model of a bloody example. He'll burn down one of the suburbs first. But not for a few more days. You should use this time to think about my proposition. I would accept to let you, your family and what's left of your followers and soldiers bail out of Great Britain. There would be conditions but not too harsh ones... Think about it..."

With one stroke he drew his sword and extinguished all five candles.

"Nicely done..." said George. "You could have done it normally, I'm already quite impressed."

There was no answer.

He waited a few seconds and decided that d'Arcy was gone. Or discreetly watching over him.

He pulled the cushions out from under him and did his best to lie down.

He would speak tomorrow morning with his guards.

He knew already that they were not the best but they could have made an effort.

He could be dead after all.

And that idea was not pleasant.

A few seconds later he was fast asleep and a silent shadow left the darkness of the room to climb through the open window.

* * *

**Next chapter: Pemberley Family  
**


	39. Pemberley Family

Where new beginnings bring old grudges out of hidding.

* * *

**Chapter 39: Pemberley Family**

* * *

**Derbyshire, Pemberley Wednesday the twelfth August. Eighth day. Morning.**

* * *

"Mother, I said no! I don't want one..."

Mrs. Bennet looked at the heavens and took a deep breath that would have shaken the eardrums of all of Pemberley if Fitzwilliam Darcy had not appeared behind Elizabeth.

Mrs. Bennet who had for a long time decided that Fitzwilliam Darcy was the most perfect gentleman and the best son in law a mother could wish for, immediately lost her momentum and couldn't help but smile at the Master of Pemberley.

"I'm sorry to intrude, dear," said he, "but I do believe your mother is right. Your wedding dress would be even more beautiful with a train. And do take into account you Gardiner cousins. What more exciting prospect for a young girl than to follow a loved one to the altar of the church while holding the train of the wedding gown? It will be their most exciting memory for the years to come. And, with luck, when they marry they'll remember the privilege they got and invite our own daughters to carry their trains. That's what family is for... To build marvelous memories for everybody."

The smile on Mrs. Bennet's face blossomed.

Fitzwilliam Darcy was more than handsome, rich and famous. Agreeing with her, he touched to perfection. He was already on the highest step of her personal Pantheon but she immediately put two more level at his top. Nothing could be good enough for such a paragon of good manners.

Elizabeth knew she had lost that battle when the faces of her mother and aunt were illuminated by very satisfied smiles.

Her formidable fiancé had, once more, seduced them and they would be for all eternity his devoted and grateful followers. Mrs. Reynolds would be no help in this peculiar instance, she being already -and for a long time- in that category!.

As was she, if she could, for a minute, forget that she was upset with her mother...

Which was, with each passing day, a little more difficult.

She sighed and accepted her defeat.

"But only because of Emma and her sister..."

She immediately was rewarded for her acceptation by a series of kisses planted by Fitzwilliam at the bottom of her neck.

Bottom which, thanks to a not buttoned dress could travel much lower than usually.

Elizabeth couldn't help herself but sensually growl her pleasure under Fitzwilliam's masterful strokes.

"Mr. Darcy," said Mrs. Bennet, "I must enjoin you to immediately stop. Such unseemly behavior cannot be accepted..."

Her shining eyes and her satisfied smile saying quite the opposite of her words.

Mrs. Gardiner seeing that the situation could very well cross the boundaries of good education, walked forward, grasped Mr. Darcy by the arm and pushed him out of the dressing room.

They could not afford to let such a public behavior go on. The whole household was already brimming with rumors about a certain picnic and the liberties the bride and her bridegroom had taken in advance, that letting them continue was just out of the question.

"I'm sorry to be so rude, Mr. Darcy, but there are limits even the master of Pemberley has no right to exceed. Please do not come back... Your presence is –visibly-- upsetting the bride."

Bride who, leaning backwards into her fiancé's embrace, had just be saved by Georgiana's intervention from a very ungraceful fall on her rear end when her aunt has pulled Fitzwilliam away from her.

Georgiana's smile was all that was necessary to reconcile Lizzie with the situation. She smiled back and climbed again on the platform where she was spending a few hours each morning to let the seamstress and the women of the family prepare her for the wedding.

She turned around and to her great satisfaction she was able to see Fitzwilliam's shining smile just before the door was, once more, closed.

His smile would be enough for the coming hour.

* * *

Georgiana, as the Bridegroom's only female relative, had been adopted by the female ruling circle of the clan and thus was part of every decision pertaining to Lizzie's wedding. She didn't say much but she was very proud to be included in the little, but important, Club.

She was quite satisfied to be so treated and even more satisfied to be considered as an important female of the household even by Mrs. Reynolds who had had no qualm about her presence.

From time to time she even had the impression that she was more important than Elizabeth who, being the object of all decisions and fittings, was not really treated as a member of the ruling circle.

Not yet anyway. As the bride she was in a sort of familial limbo where her status was not very clear.

She and Georgiana had had very few occasions to speak but for all Miss Darcy knew they had already found common interests which would link them even more together than her wedding with Fitzwilliam.

Bu her relations with Elizabeth were not what had brought her the most surprise.

What was even more important to Georgiana was the very peculiar link that had grown between her and Mrs. Bennet.

Georgiana had never known what having a loving and caring mother could mean.  
She had seen the mothers of some of her relations but none had ever shown her feelings for her children so openly than Mrs. Bennet.

Some would probably have called Lizzie's mother intrusive but Georgiana had learned better.  
Mrs. Bennet cared. She even cared a lot! And from the minute she had looked at Georgiana she had decided that she cared also for the slight shy person who was under the towering protective influence of Fitzwilliam Darcy.

And Georgiana had been very much surprised to notice that she liked the way Mrs. Bennet cared for her.

There was no show nor hypocrisy in what Mrs. Bennet demonstrated.

She just cared for her daughters.

In every way she deemed important! And securing a future to at least one of them had been one of the ways she had shown her attention.

It was in her nature and Georgiana had very soon understood that under Mrs. Bennet apparent intrusiveness lurked a very real loving anxiety. And for a reason Georgiana had had a few problems to grasp, Mrs. Bennet had included her in the little circle of her wards. And when everything else was said, Georgiana liked it very much to be considered as a real member of a real –_and extensive_-- family.

Not that Fitzwilliam had ever mistreated her or refused to show her affection but he had always been so controlled, so distant... She smiled. Yes, he _had been _controlled and distant. Since the Bennets had entered their life he was no longer all the time controlled or distant.

He was also often spontaneously happy and natural.

And, to Georgiana's real surprise, he too had accepted Mrs. Bennet's numerous signs of affection as if they were natural and even normal. And not in the least to please Elizabeth who had made no effort to conceal that her mother's affects were upsetting her.

That point was becoming a problem. The more Fitzwilliam and Georgiana seemed to accept Mrs. Bennet's exuberance, the more Mrs. Bennet's character seemed to upset Elizabeth.

With quarrels who let both antagonists more than exhausted.

But there Fitzwilliam had shown a facet of his character that even his sister had never known before. He was, with the help of the whole staff, doing everything in his power to deflate even the slightest sign of a quarrel between daughter and mother.

His appearance a few minutes earlier had nothing to do with luck or chance.

He had been informed that a storm was brewing.

And he had done everything in his power to be there in the less time possible.

And, once more, the worst has not happened.

But he could not be everywhere and from time to time he was called outside the House.

At these moments the "ruling circle" just stopped preparing the wedding. Mrs. Gardiner's children had that marvelous habit to show up when Fitzwilliam was absent, obliging the preparations to be, momentarily, stopped.

But Georgiana knew that it could not last. The incoming storm would come and she had no idea how Elizabeth and her mother would come out of that conflagration.

She looked up at Elizabeth, smiled at her and went to Mrs. Reynolds.

"I'd like to stop for now... Will it be a problem if I leave you?"

Mrs. Reynolds looked up and her eyes asked Mrs. Bennet and Mrs. Gardiner.

"No," said Mrs. Gardiner. "It's even better if we all stop now. Neither Lizzie nor you are needed for the last part of our work. Go and get some rest, we will go on tomorrow morning..."

Georgiana curtsied, took Elizabeth's hand ad they both fled to the _Mistress' bedroom_ where they would be able to chat.

* * *

As soon as they were out of the "dressing room" Kitty was at their side. Usually she was invited but with Elizabeth's mood pummeling down she had decided not to be where she would have to take position between her mother and her sister.

Elizabeth had never been her favorite sister, Lydia and Jane competing for that role, Lydia because of a common passion for balls and red frocks and Jane because one could always find help and solace with her eldest. Jane had always been the rock of stability and good sense in the Bennet family.

But that did not mean that Kitty didn't like Lizzie. She liked her very much –much more than Mary who was a bore-- , but she found her just a trace too cerebral.

And, from time to time blinded by prejudice.

As now.

She was decided to do something and she knew exactly how to launch her campaign.

She helped Lizzie to change into one of the plainer dresses she so much liked and began with a frontal attack.

Sixteen years of cohabitation with three and then four sisters had learned her that nothing was more effective than a direct assault of the fortress you wish to take.

She went to the bathroom door and looked at the opposite wall while Georgiana was giving Lizzie a hand to straighten her hair. They had decided not to call the hairdresser since there would be another round of fitting somewhere in the afternoon. And since old habits have problems to die, Lizzie saw no use in bothering the poor maids more than necessary.

"Where's that famous secret door?"

She loved the light crimson on both girls cheeks.

"What secret door?" stammered Elizabeth.

""_THE_ secret door," explained she with raised eyebrows. "Where _HE_ goes through for his nightly visits..."

She loved that very colorful shade of dark crimson even more...

She burst out laughing.

"Look at yourself in the mirror. I would be speaking to two lobsters just squeezing in sizzling water I wouldn't have nicer shades of red..."

Elizabeth, not unschooled in sisterly campaigns, decided that a counter attack was the best way to quit these slippery waters and waddle into more secure ones.

"How untoward! Shame on you to even utter such unseemly comments..."

But with Lydia's aid –_and opposition_-- Kitty had developed quite an effective skill in not hearing what was to no avail to her present goal. And she was even better at hurtling back the other's arguments...

"Unseemly? Untoward? Hear, hear... Because I speak of a door? What would it be if it was me that handsome Fitzwilliam Darcy comes to in the middle of the night to carry me to some secret..."

Her comment had the exact result she intended: Lizzie was up and trying to grasp her.

Georgiana's even deeper dark crimson –_a real achievement there_-- was just a little bonus she would never have counted on.

Being prepared and much younger than her old sister she had no problems to dodge the cowardly attempt at surprising her.

Like an eel she slipped through Lizzie's finger and escaped by wiggling between two armchairs and by somersaulting over the bed.

Out of her sister's immediate reach she stuck her tongue at Lizzie.

"Come on, Lizzie, tell us! We are your sisters, We have a right to know the truth. You must be aware of the rumors that are deafening us everywhere in this House... Would not the truth be much more..."

She had to stop since her sister had launched a second attack by jumping on the bed.

"I'll strangle you, you..." said Lizzie while trying to reach out toward her sister.

At this moment, her dress caught one of the sculpted portent of the bed and stopped her in her jump.

She lost her balance ad fall very unladylike on the floor.

There was a loud stomp and Lizzie stopped her movement abruptly to fall heavily on the ground.

And there she reminded motionless.

* * *

Georgiana's distress would have been uttered in the form of a loud cry if Kitty had put her hand on her friend's mouth.

"Don't let yourself be fooled by an ugly attempts at treachery," whispered she. "This is only one of these tricks lame old sisters use to catch nimble young ones. Let me demonstrate..."

She went to the table, took the water glass, climbed discreetly over the bed and poured a few drops of water over Lizzie's bosom.

The result was immediate and Lizzie's hand shot out to get Kitty who was already at the other end of the bed.

"Got you!" chuckled Kitty. "I'm not Jane! She would have bought it like the first time! I'm of a sterner stuff. You'll have to find something else to get to..."

The "something else" caught her in the face and robbed her of her balance. She fell loudly on the romp with the rest of the water splashing her face and clothes.

But since the cushion was –_no doubt on it_-- only the first part of the incoming attack she was up and behind an armchair before Lizzie was up and over the bed.

She was perhaps wet but she was also very happy.

It had been years since she had been able to get her elder sisters into a cushion fight. And this one was full of promises...

* * *

Ten minutes later, the room was full of feathers –one cushion had burst under Lizzie's attempt to smother her sister-- and the bed was occupied by three entangled, very happy and out of breath young ladies.

Lizzie let out a long sigh.

It had been marvelous to laugh, to prank and to forget everything.

To be, for a little moment, young and silly and free again.

"Thanks, Kitty... I needed it. I would have..."

"Don't speak of it, please. Nothing happened and it is a truth universally acknowledged that the perspective of marriage does strange things to young maids..."

Lizzie could not help but laugh.

Kitty had always had the knack to imitate aunt Philips. And that imitation was even better than usually.

"Thanks nevertheless. I was more and more sliding into mama's mirror image, hysterics and all..."

Kitty turned around and looked her sister into the eyes.

"She's much better than at home, Lizzie! There's really no comparison. She's no longer the anxious Matron who is scared by the future. With no aunt Philips or Lady Lucas to stir up her fears, I believe she's becoming quite normal. You should stop lashing at her. She's more unhappy each passing day..."

Lizzie couldn't help but accept her sister's judgment.

It had been really her and not her mother who had had hysteric strokes...

"I know I have been insufferable. I don't know what has caused it. I'm just unable not to lash at her at each and every occasion. It's perhaps all these grudges, real or imaginary, I have against her that I stored in me all these years. They want to burst out, there's nothing I can do to contain them. I'm sorry..."

"Her nerves were never imaginary, Lizzie. She was scared and lonely and forlorn. And the visit of the reverend Collins had done nothing to calm her terrors. Your refusal to marry him –to save us all as she thought about it-- has done strange things to her mind. But since Fitzwilliam proposed, she's no longer eaten alive by her fears. She's alive again and able to taste the pleasures of said life with renewed ardor. The only thing that still eats at her, is your refusal to forgive... It's very hard for her to see that you bear grudges against her. It could destroy her anew..."

Lizzie took a deep breath.

Indeed she was unable to forgive. And why was it so? Fitzwilliam had proposed even while knowing that her mother was insufferable. It was she who had refused! Her mother has perhaps been one of the reasons of Fitzwilliam's failed proposal but, in the end, it was only Elizabeth Bennet's prejudice that had trigger the first refusal.

"I'll speak with her..." said she after a long silence.

""But only if you find in you the strength to say her your love and your affection. Don't try for less. A single formal explanation will cure nothing. You need to speak but it won't be of any use if you still nurture your grudges against her... You must be able to forgive her."

"Is there something to forgive?"

"Of course there is! On both sides," said Kitty. "I've been much nearer to her than you and Jane, I know her better. She's ridden by the guilt not having been a good enough mother to you and Jane. That, in order to raise the youngest, she has neglected you."

She took a deep breath.

"And there's another thing you should know, Lizzie: she's afraid of you..."

"Afraid of me? Why on earth should she be afraid of me?"

"She believes you so much more intelligent than her. She's impressed by your mind and when she sees father's pride of what you were able to learn, she had always seen her own failures, her own silliness..."

She sighed.

"I love papa very much but you cannot imagine how it hurts when he speaks of having the silliest girls of all England. It hurts us but it hurts even more mama who knows that she is as silly as we are..."

She looked at Georgiana as if to call her as a witness.

"And there's something else, Lizzie. From time to time your are impressive and even upsetting with all that moral high ground you step on. You often look at us with the eyes of a pitiless judge who has already condemned us. Your rightfulness is rather disturbing..."

"My what?"

Kitty nodded at her.

"It's the right word, Lizzie. You look at the world as if you are above every one else. That's why mama will never make the first move towards you. She feels unworthy! The only people whose opinion you care for are papa and Jane."

She laughed at he sister.

"Can we consider that a Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy has, a few hours ago, joined this exalted pair?"

She moved towards the bed's edge.

"If not days, than surely nights? Am I wrong?"

She dodged with grace the cushion and jumped toward the door just as a second cushion plumped against an armchair.

She was out of the room before a third one bumped against the closing door.

A second later her head reappeared.

"Don't forget to straighten your bed, or rumors will sprout that he joins you even in the morning..."

Lizzie's slipper missed her by a mere inch! But it did miss her.

Her fading laugh was covered by Lizzie's and Georgiana's.

* * *

**Next chapter: London Business  
**


	40. London Business

Where a well known man is finally better known.

* * *

**Chapter 40: London Business**

* * *

**London, Cheapside, Wednesday the twelfth August. Eighth day. Morning.**

* * *

"Mr. Gardiner is not available, Sir. He just came home from a journey to the North..."

"Derbyshire and Pemberley," said the muscular and well shaved man. His blue eyes were looking at Jonas with a strength he had but rarely seen. "I know, some of my men escorted him. They made a report. That's why I'm here. I knew he was at home."

He pulled a card out of his jacket and hold it out to Jonas.

"Please give my card to Mr. Gardiner and inform Mr. Bennet that I would like to speak to him in a personal matter as soon as he is available. But, in the meantime, I would like to speak business with Mr. Gardiner."

Jonas looked on the name of the card and had immediate confirmation of what he suspected.

As every staff member of a great House he was informed of everything which was told within the walls of the House. And, being informed about the situation between Miss Bennet and that gentleman, he was not surprised that he would want to speak to Mr. Bennet.

But why he would want to speak to his master was a mystery.

For the time being.

Soon, as usual, he would be informed, probably by the Master himself who had no secrets for his butler.

But mystery or not mystery, this man was a very peculiar and dangerous guest. He would take great care not to upset him.

He bowed.

"Mr. Gardiner is in his study, if you would allow me to inform him, I'm sure you'll be received within a few minutes. In the meantime, if you would like a tea, it will be in the little sitting room at your right very shortly."

He made a sign to the maid.

"Mathilda, please take care of monsieur d'Arcy's coat. I'm back immediately..."

He was quite proud of Mathilda who didn't show the least surprise.

* * *

"Monsieur d'Arcy, here?"

"Yes Sir. He is in the guest sitting room where he should be drinking a cup of tea."

"And he wants to see me? Not my brother..."

"First you and then Mr. Bennet. In that order. His wishes."

"Well, Jonas, let's not be impolite and make him wait more than necessary."

"I'll get him at once. And I'll inform your family that we are receiving important guests..."

"Please and thank you..."

* * *

Jonas was hurrying toward the guest sitting room when he heard voices. A female shrill one and a male grave one.

There was one member of he Bennet family who he would not have to inform.

"...She's back at her Estate, my most trusted men brought her themselves at her doorstep and since we conquered Rutland just the day before, I can assure you that the Duchess will stay as safe as possible at her age."

"Thank you, monsieur," said Lydia. "I already knew that you were a gentleman, now I know that you are also _un homme de coeur._.."

"_Toujours au service de ces dames, ma chère_..."

"And how's Jane?"

"Jane? How should I know?"

Lydia chuckled like an old maggot.

"Come on, I'm sure you were with her before even considering coming here. Nothing can stop a man like you..."

Jonas heard that d'Arcy was smiling.

"If what you suspect is true I would have been with her tonight and you must understand that no gentleman would ever admit having met the lady of his heart in such unseemly circumstances..."

Jonas heard hand clapping.

"So, you saw her! I knew it. What's her answer?"

"There was no question so there can be no answer, miss Lydia. And I would be very grateful if we could change the topic of our conversation..."

Knowing Lydia, Jonas knew it was time to enter into the fray.

He coughed.

"Mr. Gardiner is ready to receive you Sir. If Miss Lydia will excuse us..."

Lydia was already running toward the stairs.

"I'm getting Papa! I'm sure he will be more than curious to see you..."

Both men looked after the swirling blue dress climbing the stairs.

"If it can reassure you, Miss Bennet was never ever quite so..." he hesitated. "Let's say lively!"

"Of that I have no doubt, dear Jonas. But don't be too hard on Miss Lydia, she has her moments and she shares with me a trait I admire: we fear nothing!"

* * *

"Monsieur d'Arcy... What an unsuspected pleasure," said Mr. Gardiner while pointing to his best armchair. "I'm in your debt and I would like to know how I will ever be able to repay your help at bringing me from Pemberley to London."

D'Arcy sat and made a hand sign.

"We will be very soon family, Mr. Gardiner. And Miss Elizabeth Bennet's relatives will soon be mine. So it's only normal that my men took great care in escorting and protecting you..."

He pointed toward the environment.

"I suppose you know that they are still doing it, don't you?"

"I suspected as much, monsieur d'Arcy. And since you're not here to present me the bill, what can I do for you?"

D'Arcy looked at the man facing him. A little older than himself and from what he had heard a quite successful businessman. With relations and business partners all over the world. He was just about to loose most of his fortune but he should have saved enough to begin anew.

But it seemed he would not have to do it after all.

"I'm here to make you a proposition, Mr. Gardiner. A business proposition which will put you in a difficult position and which will give you lots of work in the months to come..."

Edward Gardiner leaned forward and looked his opposite directly into the eyes. He could see that he was speaking the truth. He could have hidden his feelings with ease, he was sure of it, but he had chosen to be frank.

He could afford it.

"How so?"

D'Arcy took a deep breath and sat up.

"You know that within a few weeks we will have conquered the whole of Great Britain?"

"I feared so much..."

"A miracle could perhaps still save the United Kingdom but I doubt that even a miracle could prevent me from taking over the mainland of the islands."

Mr. Gardiner nodded. He was no strategist but he could recognize a fucked up situation when he saw one.

"And just after my rearguard the most hungry sharks of the French Bourgeoisie will fall upon your economy and tear it to bits and shreds."

"I feared so much in this field also..."

"But it could be in our hands to prevent such a ugly event..."

That part brought every cubic inch of businessman in Edward Gardiner to watch out. Here was a man who could destroy the British economy for decades to come and who was willing to do something to save it. Why?

"Why?" smiled his opposite. "Because I don't want Napoleon and his cronies to destroy for their sole profit what would be much more interesting if it is saved and protected..."

"And you would save it?"

"No, Mr. Gardiner, _you_ are going to save it and when it is saved I'll protect it! I'm no expert in business, trade or economy. I know how to conquer and destroy a country. I have some knowledge in technology and I do possess a technical know how that is rare and precious. But when it comes to saving an economy I will be of no real use."

He smiled again.

"That's were you could play an important role."

"Because I'm family?"

D'Arcy nodded.

"Family is no definitive protection against theft and swindle but it happens a lot more between strangers! There are probably better businessmen than you in the world. But it happens that next Sunday we will have family links to bind us. For me it's worth more than excellency in your field... Much more!"

Edward Gardiner could only nod. He could understand that sort of reasoning. He had known that truth the day he chose to go his own way leaving behind a perfect association with an honest man. But even if both were honest, nothing could guarantee that the heirs would be the same. So they went their separate ways...

"How much are we speaking of?"

"No idea," answered d'Arcy. "What I want you to do is summon all those men who possess an important part of Britain's economy in order to convince them to place their factories, businesses and companies under your authority. I want you to create a joint stock company where all those who want to save their fortune bring what they possess in exchange for shares in the company's capital. You'll be manager general of the company and I'll be share holder. I'll bring you money and know how..."

Edward Gardiner looked at his opposite. He had listened and he had heard the part about technology and technical know how.

"What know how?"

"A new source of energy, Mr. Gardiner. I'm the proud inventor of a steam engine who works and who could be able to drive hundreds of different machines."

"They operate on long periods?"

"Indeed! They are build to work aboard ships who go to sea Mr. Gardiner. And those ships have shown in the Channel that they can function for days without the least incident. And on land the machines will be even more efficient since we'll not need a quarter of their output to pump leaking water out of the hull."

"That would be quite a revolution, monsieur d'Arcy. But why proposing to give them to us and not to your French compatriots?"

D'Arcy nodded. The question had had to come but he was sure his opposite knew the answer.

"Because here I have the power to impose my decisions. In France, even if I'm no underdog, I'm only fourth on the scale to power. Here, thanks to my status as Proconsul I'm the number one. I will not be able to prevent every French shark to grab a chunk of the British economy. But what's _mine_ they won't get! And if I'm a share holder of said company, it will clearly be mine and even a greedy little Corsican will hesitate to try to rob me. Let's say that we have a sort of gentleman agreement. They won't look into how I've built my fortune in England and I'll forget to ask how they plundered Italy and Austria..."

His smile disappeared.

"With the little difference that I don't want to rob anybody. I just want a share in a company where a a lot of very rich people could join their forces to increase the wealth of every body..." There he stopped. "And when I say everybody, I mean everybody, Mr. Gardiner. I want that particular company to pay it's workers more than decently. I want them to get a larger part of the benefits than the capital share holders. I want them to be interested in the results of the company. I want them to be happy and satisfied and with enough money to feed their families, buy houses and goods our company will produce. There will be no exploitation of the workers by the owners, Mr. Gardiner. On that point I won't compromise..."

Edward Gardiner looked at d'Arcy.

What had this man in his mind? Why...

"Again wondering why I'm having such strange expectations?"

He sighed and stood up. He went to the window and looked out. The sun had risen and the day was as wonderful as all the other days of this exceptional August 1801. As if the Gods were smiling on his enterprise.

"No secret there, Mr. Gardiner. I want this land to stay under French rule and there's no better way to ensure such a thing than to give to the people what they didn't get before. Satisfied workers would not have accepted to die for the French bourgeoisie, Mr Gardiner. Starving and desperate people accepted to do the dirty work of the Rich in order to save what they could of their family. I want the English worker to be fat and complacent. Living in lovely homes and doting on their sons and daughters who will find, when the time comes, a secure job in the Company. And I want the English company holders to be wealthy and satisfied, not on the run and with ideas of revenge ."

He looked at Mr. Gardiner.

"Don't approach the greedy ones or those who love to have power over others. Those I will deal with. I'll point the sharks at them. They'll end with nothing left to them... Or they will kill each other. It would be even better. What ever comes out, it will be an end they all deserve."

Mr. Gardiner let the prospect wander in his mind. If he had d'Arcy's guarantee, he could very well build such a Company. He knew exactly who to see and who to approach. He had learned that they were quasi all in London trying to save what could be saved.

They would accept the bargain. They would loose power but they would increase their wealth and wealth was a currency which could be easily transformed in Power if one lusted for it.

"You spoke of investing money... How much..."

D'Arcy glanced at him and went back to looking at the street and Kennedy's men patrolling discreetly the surroundings.

"Hundred thousand pounds," answered he. "I could more but most of my Capital is not yet liquid enough. It will take a few weeks to get at it..."

Edward Gardiner was stunned by the huge sum.

"With such money you could do it alone..."

D'Arcy shook his head.

"As I said, I don't have the skills necessary to do it efficiently. And I don't have enough time to invest into that particular prospect. Even if I do consider that very prospect as even more important than this invasion business. It's very important for me and that's why I need somebody I can trust. Somebody who is more than an employee."

He turned and looked at Edward Gardiner.

"Will it be you?"

"It will expose me as a man of the French."

"Not necessarily. It will expose you as _my_ man! And being family is, most of the time, a precious shield against fanatical behavior. They won't like you but they won't label you a traitor. Only a man who had to choose between two loyalties. And if I get what I want, It could very well be me being your nephew. Nobody will discuss our business understandings in the light of such a relationship."

Edward Gardiner couldn't help but smile.

"So she accepted?"

"I proposed but I didn't ask for her answer yet," came the answer. "I have to speak to her father first. He will have to decide if he wants me as a member of his family. Should he refuse, that particular prospect will have found its end."

He turned and came in front of his host.

"You didn't answer to my proposition. Do you agree?"

Edward Gardiner nodded.

"I'd be a fool to refuse to be at the head of what could become the most powerfull business company in the world. And I've proven many times in my life that I'm no fool."

He hold his hand out to d'Arcy.

"I'm your man, monsieur d'Arcy."

"I'm glad, Mr. Gardiner. I could not have found a better manager."

* * *

"_always at the service of the Ladies, my dear_..."

* * *

**Next chapter: London Demand**


	41. London Demand

Where a father meets _the_ man who's courting his daughter.

* * *

**Chapter 41: London Demand**

* * *

**London, Cheapside, Wednesday the twelfth August. Eighth day. Morning.**

* * *

"Mr. Gardiner and monsieur d'Arcy have finished, Sir. If you would be so kind and join them in Mr. Gardiner's study?"

"I'm on my way," said Mr. Bennet putting his cup of tea down on the tray. "Please, would you see that Lydia does not spy on us? I'd like to make the announcements myself!"

Jonas bowed and his eyes smiled even if his face was perfectly without expression.

"We'll see that Miss Lydia has no reason to camp behind Mr. Gardiner's study door."

"Thank you Jonas, that would be a great help..." He winked at the butler who was also a trusted friend. "And I do believe that the rose bush under my brother's window should be in need of a little cutting. I'm sure you'll be able to find someone skilled in gardening, won't you?"

They both pretended having not heard the muffled swear word coming from outside the sitting room and Mr. Bennet, looking a last time at his suit in the mirror, went on.

He sighed. There was the first bridge coming toward him.

He would have liked to have more time but then, when in these last seven days, had he had enough time to take intelligent decisions?

He walked with Jonas into the hall, smiled at Lydia who was shooting arrows at the universe and stopped before his brother's study door.

He took an deep breath and nodded to Jonas who knocked, entered when invited and announced him.

"Please let him in, Jonas," said Mr. Gardiner.

He entered and immediately looked at the man standing near the library window. He was tall and sinewy and stood there straight and lordly.

They bowed.

"I'll let you now," said Mr. Gardiner.

"If you like, you can stay," answered d'Arcy. "What I'm going to say is not meant to be a secret for other members of the family."

"I appreciate your trust, but I'm sure some conversations must be done privately. I would like it to be so. I'm sure my brother will keep us informed afterwards. I, for my part, must urgently go to town where a few gentlemen of my acquaintance are taking decisions they could regret. I'll hurry to give them the last and interesting piece of information we spoke about."

"Thank you, Mr. Gardiner, I appreciate it..."

Mr Gardiner bowed.

"Edward. Monsieur d'Arcy," and followed Jonas out of the room.

There was a lengthy silence and Mr. Bennet was the one to break it. He was sure his opposite would have waited hours before speaking.

"So that's it," said he after a long time.

"Indeed, that's it..."

Three words followed by an other lengthy silence that grated on Mr. Bennet's nerves.

"Please, stop playing that idiotic game! If I grant you the title of the most patient and less nervous suitor I ever met, will it be enough to get you to speak?"

D'Arcy's eyes soon followed by his lips showed humor and mirth.

"I suppose it should be enough," conceded d'Arcy who let his smile blossom on his –handsome-- face.

Edward Gardiner looked at him, studying his features and his bearing.

There was a man who knew what he wanted. There was also a man who was in the habit of taking what he wanted without looking back once. The image of a tiger would come up when looking at him. Mr. Bennet could even imagine the way he would move.

"I had not had the opportunity to thank you for the rescue of my daughters and their friends. I would have been very upset –and guilty-- if you hadn't been there in time to help them."

D'Arcy's smile twitched.

"You should not forget to thank the British Army, Mr. Bennet. Had they not be so poor soldiers I would have been late..."

"Had they been better soldiers you would, perhaps, have been of no use. I do believe that the scum who took advantage of your invasion to let their real selves be shown would have gone on with playing the honest people they were not..."

"We will never know..."

"What I know is enough and, as a father, I thank you for the prompt involvement who saved probably my daughters' lives..."

D'Arcy bowed.

"It was my duty as a gentleman and it soon became my pleasure as a man..."

That remark could not not be looked at with a minimal disapprobation. He forced his smile away.

"Indeed I heard that you saw my daughter a few times without a proper chaperon?"

"Could a dozen Irish freedom fighter be considered as enough to replace a woman chaperonage?"

Mr. Bennet's smile came back against his will.

He liked the witty remarks of this man. He would take great pleasure word-fighting against him.

"You dodged the real answer I expected, monsieur d'Arcy. I suppose that was your goal."

D'Arcy's smile blossomed into a real laugh.

"You seem a clever opponent. Not the best qualities you await in a father in law..."

"You'll have to do with me if you persist to look at my eldest daughter with prospects in your eyes."

D'Arcy nodded.

"That's quite true and to say the truth I do intend to follow those particular prospects."

Mr. Bennet crossed his fingers and gave himself a few seconds to fathom the situation.

Did he want this man as an in-law?

No and yes.

'No' because it would mean that he would lose all contact with his eldest daughter and 'yes' because if this man was Jane's choice, it would also be his.

"You're the most troublesome suitor I ever witnessed. Won't you ask the question I'm wanting you to ask?"

The answer did not really surprise Mr. Bennet.

"Not immediately, Mr. Bennet. I will ask you, but, before, I'll present you with all the reasons to say no."

"None to push me into 'yes'?"

"You already know the only reason to say 'yes'. What you need to know are the reasons to say 'no' to my drive to become your daughter's husband."

Mr. Bennet couldn't help but shake his head.

"Very peculiar, monsieur d'Arcy. Most of suitors would do the opposite. Try to convince me that they are what is best for my daughter."

"That's because I'm not what is best for your daughter! What's best for your daughter lives in this same house and he would be, in my opinion, much better suited to your daughter's tranquility than I."

Mr. Bennet could not not notice the choice of the word.

"Tranquility? Not happiness?"

"I have the arrogance to believe that _I_ would be the best one to give her that. But that happiness would be embedded in so much trouble, actions and journeys that she will probably never have what all women dream of: a beautiful house, armies of servants and time to look at her children becoming adults..."

He went to the window and looked at the gardener trimming the rose bushes.

He was probably not aware of the two rifles who followed each and everyone of his movements.

D'Arcy hoped he would do nothing foolish.

"I am a man of the sword, Mr. Bennet. I'm probably not pessimistic if I say that in the next twenty years I will fight a campaign after another. Probably with only a few months rest between the end of one and the beginning of the next."

He turned and looked at Mr. Bennet.

"And I'm not a man to let my family behind me. I'll take your daughter with me around the world and I'll want her to be at my side every single day of our marriage. It would be an interesting and eventful life but never calm, never smooth."

Edward Bennet joined him at the window.

"So you count on me to force you out of your love affair?"

D'Arcy looked at him with surprise in his eyes.

Yes, it was something like that. He would be terribly unhappy but he would have the possibility to hang Mr. Bennet's refusal in front of his plight.

Mixed with a pinch a resentfulness he could probably live with it. Survive would be a better word.

"You're even cleverer than I thought..."

"And that troubles you?"

"Not in the least... I like circumstances that force me to be better. I am a man with lots of enemies and some of those enemies are a few of the most powerful men in the world. I need to be always ahead of them. And that needs a well functioning mind. And to get such a mind you need challenges. If possible other challenges than battles and conquests."

"So you want me to say no?"

D'Arcy looked once more at the gardener who had seen him and who was visibly more nervous.

That was a good thing. A scared man does not do too foolish things.

"No," said he after an long moment thinking. "I want you to accept my demand of your daughter's hand. I want her to be my wife and I want you to give her to me..."

He looked at Edward Gardiner.

"But I want you to be totally aware of what you will do to her, Mr. Bennet. You will do her a favor and a great disservice." He shook his head. "I pray to all the gods of all earth that she will never be unhappy with me but I know with certainty that she will be unhappy with the circumstances."

He sighed and went to the armchairs.

"Could we sit? I had a tiring night and my day is only beginning."

Mr. Bennet nodded and sat opposite to the not so young man.

"You must know," continued d'Arcy, "that I never intended to marry. I'm a lonely soul who revels in doing what pleases him. I always believed that marriage would cut me of the liberty I so love."

He sighed again.

"I resisted twenty years. Till that afternoon in Rosings when I saw her, with that stick in her hand trying to crush the heads of those ruffians."

His eyes wandered into the realm of memory or wish-thinking.

"Was it the sun in her half dressed hair, was it something else? I really don't know but even while I was too far away to see her features, I had that fluttering in my inner parts that warned me that something exceptional was happening..."

He laughed.

"And then I saw her and my inner peacock snapped in. I couldn't help but do it the most flashy way possible. I could have shot one at twenty meters and the whole flock would have fled in an eye's wink. But no, I went in with only my sword and wearing just my skirt. And I cut them in pieces..."

He passed his hand over his weary eyes.

Mr. Bennet hoped that if he was tired it was not because he had just spent the night with her. If he had, there would be...

Something snapped in place in his mind.

After a few seconds he couldn't bear it anymore.

"You saw her tonight?"

D'Arcy looked up and his smile was back. More mischievous than ever.

"That I cannot confess, Mr. Bennet. If, and I say if, it would have been the case, you would have no more choice to refuse my demand. You must continue to believe that I didn't see her tonight. It's very important to ensure the credibility of your answer..."

Mr. Benet shook his head and made a grimace.

"You know that _that_ answer with everything it implies is even worse than a simple 'yes'?"

"You asked..."

"You could have said 'no'..."

"And you would have believed me?"

"No, I wouldn't,' confessed Mr. Bennet. "Because I have proof you've been with her. I was wondering what it was since I stood at your side at the window. Even with closed casements I smelled the fragrance of the roses outside, but that peculiar fragrance was so well known I could not stop thinking about it..."

He looked at d'Arcy with severe eyes.

"But since I still smell those roses here, I have no other solution but to accept that what I'm smelling is not the rose bush but your perfume or to be more adequate the remnants of my daughter's perfume..."

D'Arcy made a face.

"Sorry I had nor the time, nor the opportunity to take a bath..."

His smile came back.

"And to say the truth, even if I had had that opportunity I would not have taken it. I love to be reminded of her through that little lilac-rose fragrance..."

He stopped when he saw Mr. Bennet's look.

"Alright, I saw her and we spoke..."

Mr. Bennet stood up and looked at d'Arcy with forced anger in his tone. He would not have believed it but he took great pleasure in playing this outraged father role.

"You spoke? You do really want me to believe that speaking with her was enough to drench you in her perfume?"

D'Arcy pouted.

"Drenched is perhaps a little exaggerated..."

"You swear you didn't touch her?"

"Of course not! What man could swear such a thing without being seen as the worst of liars?" He looked at his hand. "I will concede that I kissed her... once..."

Mr. Bennet's face was the perfect image of disbelieving.

"It was a lengthy kiss, I'll admit so much!"

"Thanks for such a truthful confession, Mr. D'Arcy. It warms my heart to know that my future son in law is able to say the truth!"

D'Arcy's look was pleading when he spoke a few seconds later.

"I do swear to you that nothing happened that could put your daughter's virtue in jeopardy. We spoke and we... spent a little more than two hours together. But nothing happened that..."

"Don't says a word more! I don't want more details. I'll have to speak with Jane and I'll have to do it sooner than later."

He frowned at d'Arcy.

"Did you propose to her..."

"I did, but I asked her not to answer immediately. I don't want her to take an hasty decision. I'm not an easy man to live with. I have dark sides within me that she will have difficulties to accept." He snorted. "_I_ have difficulties to accept them. All in all, I'm not a sane man, Mr. Bennet. Don't force her to marry me. She must come to me of her free will. I couldn't stand it otherwise..."

"I won't force her, I won't even speak to her about what I just learned. But I must confess that I'm a little disappointed in her. I would have thought her made of a sterner stuff..." He let a smile come to his lips. "Even if I _do_ understand why she could surrender to the like of you..."

He took a deep breath and hold out his hand.

"If she agrees to be your wife, you'll have my blessing, monsieur d'Arcy. I gave her the right to choose, I won't take it back. It's all her choice now..."

D'Arcy had great difficulties to look as contrite as he should but his eyes were tingling and Mr. Bennet was quite satisfied with how this peculiar interview went.

Now he had the moral high ground.

Now he could be a real father to this mammoth of a warrior.

He wouldn't go as far as spanking him –way too dangerous that-- but a tongue lashing from time to time was a very real possibility.

* * *

Just before going out the front door, d'Arcy turned and looked at him.

"I have also spoken with the Prince of Wales. It could very well be that Jane's presence in the Palace is no longer necessary. You should perhaps ask him if you can take her away. I do believe he will accept her removal..."

He smiled a last time and hold out his hand.

"It has been a pleasure, Mr. Bennet, I like it when my opponent are smart and resourceful. The victories give so much more satisfactions."

"I agree, monsieur d'Arcy, I agree, but today I'm sure you know who's the winner, don't you?"

D'Arcy didn't answer and turned away.

But his eyes were still smiling when he got to the horse Kennedy was holding.

"Good day, Sir?"

"The best, my friend, the best..."

* * *

**Next chapter: Pemberley Discoveries  
**


	42. Pemberley Discoveries

Where we see that the Bennet sisters know a lot about simple people.

* * *

**Chapter 42: Pemberley Preparations**

* * *

**Derbyshire, Pemberley, Wednesday the twelfth August. Eighth day**

* * *

"Miss Bennet, what a pleasurable happenstance..."

"Indeed Mr. Darcy... I do agree with you. Quite pleasurable..."

"I hope your morning has been as nice as mine..."

"I fear not, Mr. Darcy. While you were going in and out, taking pleasure of the sun and the morning dew, I was confined within and I spent long hours standing on a platform for the necessary fitting of a few new dresses. There's that heavy white one who needs so much fitting. I fear we will be short in time..."

"If it is not ready, we'll have to do without!"

"My, my, Mr. Darcy and what would you propose to replace it?"

"I really have an extremely accurate idea but I fear saying it out loud would be very unseemly..."

Lizzie couldn't help but laugh.

"Fitzwilliam, we are in the middle of Pemberley Great Hall in each others arms, your head disappearing in the hair you just unmade and we whisper love words to each other without even thinking of those who could be able to see us. What could be more unseemly?"

He took a deep breath of Elizabeth's Rose and Lilac perfume and purred in her ear.

"I don't know and I don't care," whispered he. "I'm in the only place I want to be and I want it to go on and on, and on..."

She smiled.

She was in the only place she wanted to be and, like him, she wanted it to go on, and on, and on...

"We're not reasonable, dear," said she after a very long time. "Even Mama who looks up at you as if you were the ninth world wonder..."

"And I'm not?" interrupted he without moving his head lying on her own head.

She chuckled.

"No, for me you're the _sole _world wonder, and you take great advantages of my belief..."

He purred louder.

"I love it when you say such nice things into my ear. Go on, I pray you..."

"As I say, even Mama will have to do something if we don't stop soon. And let's not forget that our behavior is very suspicious. Some nasty thinking people could imagine that we are more than just betrothed..."

He rubbed his cheek against her head.

"Let them... Even the reverend believes I took liberties with you. And I was innocent..."

"You were innocent for only a few hours if I remember correctly."

"Once innocent, always innocent," protested he. "I'm the victim here, and if I remember well you did nothing to reestablish your betrothed's honor in his reverend's eyes."

She shook lightly her head. She loved it when he played that particular role.

"I had to do something," went he on, "I could not have been able to survive with such an unjustified suspicion gnawing at my heart..."

"Oh, and to lighten your burden you did exactly what the reverend suspected you of having done and carried me to that lovely and intimate grove!"

He tore himself from her lovely hair and looked in her even more lovely dark eyes.

"It was a matter of personal survival, dear. I would have become crazy had I not given our love the perfect shrine..."

She smiled at him.

That especial little smile which was lovingly mocking. And her eyes were sparkling in the relative darkness of the great hall.

In order to be able to look at him she had had to lean back letting him holding her whole weight. And he could feel that she had no qualm to let him support her. If he opened his fingers she would fall backwards. But she knew he would do no such thing and that she was in the most secure position of the universe.

And he reveled in the feeling that she had such complete trust in him.

"And there was no trace of lust in your behavior?"

"Not the least, dear. It was as if a superior force was driving me. Lust had no role in my actions..."

She believed him. She had felt it too...

Not before the grove but the moment they entered she knew they had to do what they were here to do.

She exhaled and they were, once more, in each others arms... Everything around them disappeared and they were as alone as it was possible in an estate where everybody was finding shores that brought a necessary passage in or near the Great Hall.

And those who were not smiling before would do it just afterwards.

It was Kitty's and Georgiana's voices who came to touch their cloudy minds.

"Lizzie!"

"Fitzwilliam!"

They woke up to look at their very amused sisters.

"We are here because nobody else has the courage to remind you that you shouldn't do such things in public," whispered Georgiana.

"And that the lunch is about to be served," added Kitty. "And since we normal human beings are unable to feast on love and fresh air, it would be a real boon if you would be so benevolent as to give us all the opportunity to feast on the divine meals of Pemberley's chef."

Elizabeth shot a smile at Kitty who was, each passing minute, growing steadily into her new role of kind sister.

"Shall we go Mr. Darcy? I do believe we just lost the urgency of the needs of certain normal persons unable to feed on love and fresh air..."

"Indeed, Miss Bennet, I think you're right." He smiled at her and took both Kitty and Georgiana by an arm.

"Let's go Ladies. I'm impatient to know what recipe has pushed you to summon the courage to interrupt our little tête-à-tête."

* * *

"Where are we going?"

Fitzwilliam made a face and snorted lightly.

"To one of my tenants whose wife is pregnant and who wants to see you. But first we'll have to do a slight detour, dear. I have to see a man whose living habits are not what I would call honest. He is the greatest poacher of the whole Derbyshire..."

"Why are we going to see him?"

"_I_'m going to see him," interrupted he. "I need his help to prepare for..."

He stopped and gnawed at his inner cheeks.

"To prepare... Nothing you need to worry about..."

Elizabeth was very attentive to show neither her annoyance nor her amusement. She was discovering her fiancé and like everybody she knew he has his dark sides. Being overprotective and haughty was probably only the visible parts of his character.

It was clear that in this instance he was preparing something he deemed unwomanly.

"Why is he a poacher?"

Fitzwilliam looked at her with astonishment in his eyes.

"Why? Because it's in his nature... He is a dishonest weasel and..."

She interrupted him with a gloved finger on his lips.

"Did you know that when we were little girls Jane and I we had a friend we never spoke about to Papa or Mama?"

He glanced at her with suspicious eyes.

"He was the village's poacher and he learned us everything we know about the paths and the ways around Meryton." She burst out laughing. "I even know how to catch a rabbit with a bit of wire and a little stick. If one day you're out of meat, I'll get some for you..."

She looked him in the eyes.

"And he surely was neither dishonest nor dangerous. He was just a poor man who needed help. He was a poacher because his wife was ill and that was the only way for him to find the money to pay the apothecary."

She laughed again.

"Apothecary who, by the way, tended to his wife in exchange for rabbits and partridges..."

Fitzwilliam shook his head.

"This one has no good reason. He loves to hunt my game and to rob me..."

"And you still go to him to ask for his help?"

He sighed.

"He's a weasel and a thief but he is also the man who knows everything of the peaks and Pemberley. He probably knows my estate better than everybody else. Thanks to this knowledge, he escaped my hunters for years..."

"How old is he?"

"How should I know? He's father of two sons who follow him in his despicable business. Were it not for my father's express will, they would all have spent the last ten years in jail..."

Elizabeth looked at his fiancé who was showing a face she hadn't discovered yet.

She knew he was well loved by his people and tenants.

And he _liked_ being well loved.

And, as he was just showing her, he hated being despised.

She felt guilty. Her words of last April had probably been even more hurtful than she had realized.

"How so? What happened to ensure him your father's good will?"

Fitzwilliam pouted and took a deep breath.

"When I was four I got lost in the Peaks. It was Wiloby who found me. My father always considered that he owed him my life..."

He looked up and shot a disbelieving glance toward her.

"I'm sure I would have found my way home. I was in no danger..."

Elizabeth could only too well imagine the desperation of Fitzwilliam's parent with their only son missing and lost in the most dangerous country of all England.

She too would have worshiped the man who brought him back.

Burt that's really not a thing a four year old little man was going to understand.

Of course he would have found his way home.

Of course he needed nobody.

She bend toward him and kissed him. She could see now that four year old boy in his eyes and she understood him even better.

* * *

"Wiloby..."

"Mr. Darcy..."

Fitzwilliam looked at the little sinewy man who was the most wanted poacher of all Derbyshire. And the Pemberley estate had the doubtful honor to be his home.

The little man was eleven years older than Fitzwilliam and his sons were doing their best to be as obnoxious as their father.

"You wanted to see me?"

"Indeed, Mr. Wiloby that's why I came here. To meet you and to speak."

"Rare thing that you come ourself, Mr. Darcy. Usually you sending your hunters. And they harassing me and me family..."

Fitzwilliam couldn't help but smile.

Never would Wiloby accept his situation. He believed himself as free as was possible and perhaps was he right.

"Times are a-changing Wiloby and I must prepare myself to what seems a coming war..."

"You needing soldiers? I'm not volunterring to be a soldier. I let that crap to manservants and gardeners. They foolish enough to die for rich parasites. I not!"

Fitzwilliam's smile disappeared.

His father has always defended the little man.

He could still hear him.

"What is the life of a man worth? A dozen rabbits a week? A deer a month? I don't think he's guilty enough to put him into jail. Alright he's a poacher and a damn good one, but it was him who found you when you were lost in that forest. His knowledge is invaluable and for me your life was worth a thousand rabbits and a dozen deers... I won't let him be arrested!"

But too much was too much.

"I won't listen to such nonsense! My men will fight with me and at my side because they believe it is worth to die to protect what is ours..."

But Wiloby was of a sterner stuff and could not be browed by the famous Darcy frown.

"I's all yours! They idiots to fight for your land... If you alone, you'd be beaten by Froggies and your Land could be their Land..."

Fitzwilliam looked up and saw Elizabeth's eyes on him.

She could see that he was gliding into a tantrum and her smile was impish enough to beat him back into serenity.

"Perhaps, but the most probable fate of my Land if we are beaten by the French is that a Frenchman takes it over and that they serve another master. A master who would, if confronted with it, not be so benevolent with petty poachers... Some of my pears do not hesitate to have such as you hanged. You could come to regret my presence..."

Wiloby glanced at Elizabeth who was sitting in the carriage.

The whole country knew of her and people with good informants, like Wiloby, knew even a little more then they should.

"Ye know what ye have and don't now what ye could get... I know... I'll think about it!"

Fitzwilliam stopped him with a swift gesture.

"You'll do more than that, Wiloby, you'll listen!"

His tone stopped his little opposite.

"The French are coming and we will probably have to fight them. And I'm perfectly aware that you are the man who knows this country the best. If you're not with us, I'll take no risk to see you ever working for the French and I'll do everything in my power to be sure that you'll never help them!"

"Ye threatening me?"

"Indeed I do!"

They looked at each other for a very long and very strained moment.

Nobody will ever know what was going to happen since Elizabeth's voice broke into their silent fight.

"I would say, you should stop it here or I'll have to send for dinner at Pemberley..."

They both looked at her. So were they immersed in their fight that they had not took notice of her coming.

"Let's admit that you are both very forceful and will powered gentlemen and that you're never ever going to accept the other's victory." She glanced at both of them. "Then what? Fitzwilliam will attempt to have you arrested and put into jail. You'll probably escape before the arrival of his men and being the master of Pemberley he'll have to save face and that will end with part of your family being arrested and, probably, being deported... You'll be upset and revenge hungry and you'll probably make one or more stupid attempts to kill him." She glanced at Fitzwilliam and he saw that she was worried. "And, if I'm unlucky you could even succeed. You'll probably be killed just afterwards but that won't give me my husband back..."

She took a long breath.

"So, please, stop being foolish males and begin to think of your families. The French will come and they will search to enlist you. The only way to stop them to try is your early disappearance. And what better reason to disappear than helping Fitzwilliam to get ready for their arrival?"

Wiloby shot her a distrustful glance.

"Why would I help him?"

"Because of your family, Mr. Wiloby. If you help us, you'll be comrades in arms and respected members of the community. Your sons could be something else then poachers. Even if they love their current occupation, don't you think they could be longing for something else?"

She put all the diplomacy she could muster in her smile.

"You're, if you want it or not, a known member of Pemberley estate. You could, by choosing to help us, become _a respected _member of said community. Won't you try, Mr. Wiloby? You choose your freedom over everything else, won't you help those others who will make that same choice in the following weeks?"

He looked at her for a long moment and finally nodded.

"Let's try it, but I'll have conditions..."

"No..." began Fitzwilliam.

"Problem..." ended Elizabeth while squeezing her fiancé's hand. "Let's just speak and than we will all decide..."

* * *

"He said 'yes', dear. That's what you came for..."

Fitzwilliam could only shook his head.

"At what conditions!"

"And then? He wants to be sure to be able to continue his trade..."

"His trade, haa!" interrupted he.

"...After the end of the war."

"It's preposterous that he asked you..."

She stopped him with a tender kiss.

"He liked it that I could speak with him in the same words he used..."

"He believes you were a poacher!"

"And then? Quite a few of the rabbits we ate at Longbourn came out of Jane's or mine snoozes. Technically we were poachers even if the game was already ours... And his belief granted you what you looked for. He accepted to show you everything in the Peaks. Wasn't that what you lusted for?"

The last two word had the desired effect.

The smile came back on his face.

"The only thing I'm lusting for is right at my side..."

She felt her cheeks heat.

"And there's nobody in range to see us..." said she.

He got the clue immediately.

* * *

**Next chapter: London Farewell  
**


	43. London Farewell

Where we see that life goes on and sisters will be joining in time.

* * *

**Chapter 43: London Farewell**

* * *

**London, Thursday the thirteenth August. Ninth day**

* * *

"Miss Bennet, today you're even more beautiful than yesterday..."

Jane could not help but blush.

She knew that Colonel Mayfayr was a incurable flirt and that he used these words without attaching a real significance to them but it could be that –this peculiar morning– they were the truth.

She felt more beautiful, more lively, more full of every thing essential.

Perhaps outsider could see it too...

She raised her head and smiled at the young Colonel who made every effort to sweeten her captivity.

"You should take 'no' at its more basic signification Colonel. How many times did I explain that all your efforts are in vain..."

He sat beside her and took her hand before kissing it.

"Not enough to discourage me, Miss Bennet."

She was tempted to singsong "no" for the next minutes but she knew she would burst out in laugh at the third or the fourth.

"And there are no efforts, Miss Bennet. You're one of the most beautiful women in London and I could not not flirt with you..." He sat up. "I have a reputation to maintain. One could say it's my obligation..."

She frowned at him but her eyes were still sparkling.

"One should say that your obligation is to defend England..."

She saw that he had got the message but that he wasn't hurt.

"That's exactly what I'm doing! I'm doing my utmost to please you, to wheedle you and to maintain your good humor. Don't you know that there are rumors running all over the town that d'Arcy's sweetheart is held prisoner in the Palace?"

She looked at him with surprise in her eyes.

"How should I? I'm contained within these walls, you remember? And my numerous maids don't even speak with me more than two words at a time..."

A bright smile lighted up Mayfayr's face.

"Well, then I have another reason to be at your side: to give you the last news of what is happening in Town and Kingdom..."

He smiled at her. A crooked smile, full of mischief and perkiness.

"And that's not all the rumors, Miss Bennet. The best one says that it's because d'Arcy listened to your demands that London is not invaded, destroyed and sacked by Napoleon's mad dog Duroc!"

She had problems to believe him. Was it one of the shams he was so fond of?

But his eyes were serious.

"You are the last defender of London, Miss Bennet." He insisted. "It's really my duty to ensure your happiness..."

Jane shook her head.

"Please stop laughing at me and be so kind to tell me what's happening in the Kingdom."

"Apart the war we're losing?"

"Are we really losing it?"

Mayfayr's smile disappeared.

"I fear very much so, Miss Bennet. As my favorite general pleases to say to my favorite Prince Regent: 'we're out gunned, out manned and out maneuvered...' It does not seem very encouraging. The only reason we are not already crushed is because _your_ monsieur d'Arcy takes great pains not to destroy anything."

He chuckled.

"We tried to destroy bridges but it seems all important bridges of England were under the protection of French Special Forces within hours after their landing. Our men were easily repelled by forces who had buried themselves trenches and bastions. Those who tried to fulfill their orders were just slaughtered. Thanks to God, most of the lieutenants realized that they couldn't do what they came for... We didn't lose too much people on that one..."

Jane could only nod.

"Yes, it seems that he thinks a lot in advance..."

He looked at her.

"And that he is a master in improvising, too. He could not have known that you would be in his path. And still he did what he had to do to make sure you were safe..."

Jane's blush was immediately back. Did everybody already know that he, that they...

"The Prince Regent was quite upset this morning after _his_ visit..." Mayfayr went on without seeming to realize that Jane's blush has deepened. "Seems they chatted a part of the night. Nothing happened but he was upset all the same that he could be reached without any one of the guard noticing anything... They had quite a lively discussion the general and him..."

His smile reached unknown proportions.

"I like our new boss. Never the last to shout back. And he was right, this Palace cannot be protected against one decided man. Too much openings. The general had asked the Prince numerous times to quit the Palace to live at the Tower but the Prince had always refused... Knows also perfectly well why..."

Jane frowned and let her face show her lack of understanding.

What was the meaning of Mayfayr's last sentence?

He understood her question and was only too eager to explain.

"Never would the Prince Regent accept to live in the Tower. Too much stairs and too much 'normal' doors. He would have to live in a tent in the courtyard and surrounded by tall walls he would feel like in a cell..."

He leaned toward her.

"But that's not the real reason he won't go..."

He whispered the rest of the information.

"The Tower is too easy to besiege by angry mobsters. Too central in the city. They learn he's there they'll be surrounding him within the hour. And once in there, there's no way to get him out without slaughtering the besieging people. Or be slaughtered by them..."

"But there's that rumor that the tower has underground passageways to outside the town..."

"I'm sure that they exist," approved Mayfayr. "That was how they built castles in ancient times, but just think a minute... You and I we could flee using them... Who could probably not?"

Indeed...

"So he was here last night?"

Mayfayr looked at her and she was sure his eyes were laughing at her desperate attempt to seem surprised.

"Indeed, he was. Went directly to the Regent's bedroom and had a little chat with him. I don't know what was the topic of their conversation but the Prince was more upset by his coming into his room than by what they spoke of."

Jane could not hide her doubts.

"He's probably doing his best not to show his real feelings..."

Mayfayr shook his head.

"George is a good diplomat and he is able to stand his ground in every conference but at home he's just unable not to show his feelings. And he seems more satisfied than worried. I would say they came to an understanding..."

"What could such a one be?"

Mayfayr pouted before making a face.

"I suppose he got a way out of Great Britain for himself, his family, his followers and probably what's left of his army... Survive to fight another day, and so on... It wouldn't surprise me very much if we would be ordered to move today or tomorrow. I just hope we won't have to take the ships. That would mean letting the horses behind. And I fear some idiotic order to make sure that the French don't get their hands on them..."

He frowned.

"I won't do it... I'd prefer him to be mounted by a French officer than being slaughtered by my own sword..."

"They have all of England's horses to chose from. As it is, they have probably all the horses they will ever need. There will be no such order, I'm sure..."

His eyes were immediately full of revived mischief.

"Let's hope, I would hate it to have to kill my general to save my beloved mount..." He winked at her. "Because, of course I would have to choose the one I'm sure that knows its job..."

They both laughed.

* * *

"Miss Bennet," said the Prince Regent with a slight bow. "Please take a seat... A roll or a pie? Please enjoy!"

She sat and smiled at the maid who served her a cup of chocolate.

The Prince looked rather satisfied and was showing a great appetite.

"You have probably heard that we had a visit last night?" continued the Prince of Wales after swallowing a big chunk of an applepie.

Jane was very satisfied not to blush too heavily. She felt a slight heating of her cheeks but the chat with Mayfayr seemed to have given her the means to suffer allusions without going immediately on fire.

"I heard, Your Highness, I heard."

"I thought so. And you've probably heard the rumors that he and I had come to an understanding."

There, Jane choose to frown.

"I wouldn't call them rumors, Your Highness. Speculations would be a better word."

"No matter how it is named, the fact is that we spoke and that he made a certain number of propositions I'm thinking about since then."

He made a gesture and a servant appeared at her side.

"Do you know a way to have him get official correspondence without loosing too much time?"

Jane took a few seconds to think.

She hated the idea that she could be responsible for the death of people who, even if enemies, had been protective and kind.

The Prince seemed to guess her scruples.

"Don't be afraid. I have not enough resources to launch a spy hunt. I need a way to send a few letters with all the speed possible. Nothing else."

Jane nodded.

There were moments in everyone's life where responsibilities must be accepted and no longer shunned.

"I believe my family, and especially my father, could provide you with means of letting this correspondence arrive to him within the day. I don't know the details but it seems that he has taken measures to insure the safety of my family. I'm quite sure there are agents working for him within my uncle's household..."

The Prince accepted the information with a gracious nod.

"I thought so much..."

He gestured to his servant and a bunch of letters was handed her.

"Please make sure those letters are sent on their way as soon as possible. Each hour gained could mean a few less dead soldiers or civilians."

She took the letters and put them into her purse.

"Does this mean that I'm free to go?"

"Your father's waiting just outside my study. We already spoke and he is awaiting you. As it seems, you are leaving London this very day to attend to your sister's wedding."

He made another sign and a manservant carrying a velvet cushion with two boxes appeared at his side. He pointed at the blue box.

"Please convey my congratulations to your future brother in law and to your sister. And hand the blue box to them with my greetings. In the hope that it will further the links between the Darcys and the Crown..."

His finger moved.

"The other one is for you with my thanks for your kindness and my apologies for your treatment. It was necessary but it was ungentlemanly and as such a mistake. I won't deny that I hope it will give us the opportunity to create a first link between the d'Arcys and the Crown of Great Britain."

He looked at her.

"The man who is courting you, Miss Bennet, is about to play a great role in Britain's history. It could be that the wife he'll choose could be even more important for these islands' people. I know it is a great burden we hand you over but it's the truth: we count on you..."

Jane closed her eyes and gave herself a few seconds to think.

In her heart she had already known the truth of every word the Prince Regent has just uttered.

Hearing it from him had just gave it a real consistency.

She would have to live with it.

But she wouldn't be alone and it would be easier with him at her side.

"I'll do my best, Your Highness, but you have to know that I didn't yet give an answer to his proposal. It could be that we never..." she hesitated.

"Marry?" completed the Prince Regent with a smile. "I have no such fear Miss Bennet. I've seen you and I've seen him. I'm not the best in the art of knowing my fellow humans but I'm good enough to recognize when two people belong to each other."

"That won't guarantee my marrying him, Your Highness. He gave me the freedom to refuse him, I could still take it..."

The Prince Regent smiled.

"Indeed you could, Miss Bennet. Indeed, you could..."

* * *

"Papa..."

Mr. Bennet looked up from the book he was perusing through and smiled at his daughter while standing up.

She smiled back but the smile soon disappeared.

"Papa... I..."

He loved her guilty air. He had feared that she would try to hush what had happened last night. But that would not have been like her.

Of course, his Jane would feel guilty. That was her personnality. Too late to change her. And why change her? She seemed quite well loved as she was.

"Should it be that you want to confess something, Jane, dear?"

She frowned and seemed embarassed.

"It could be, Päpa... I just don't know how..."

He closed the distance between himself and his daughter and hugged her.

"Then let me help you..." He looked her in the eyes and she saw laughter in them. "Would it be that you had a visitor last night?"

She looked at her feet and he could see her biting on her lips. She finally nodded.

"He came..."

"Oh... _He_!"

He had problems not to smile but he tried very hard to look the serious father he had always had difficulties to believe himself being.

"He proposed..." whispered she.

"I know!" said he. And she raised her questionning eyes.

"He came this morning asking for your hand..."

There was a lull while she waited for more...

"I confirmed him that it was your choice and nobody else's. You want him, I'll accept him..."

She was immediately in his arms.

"Oh... I..."

He hushed her.

"You must know that he tried very hard to convince me to refuse him..."

She laughed and cried at the same time.

"I know," sniffed she. "He did the same last night. He really believes I should marry someone else..."

Her father kissed and huggged her.

"That's what his mind says, dear. His heart and his eyes say just the contrary. It seems he really wants you. Are you ready to such a one as him?"

"Probably not, Papa, but then, I'm probably not ready for any other. So if I have to choose, I'll choose him!"

"With my blessing, dear, with my blessing..."

* * *

"Jane dear, your trunks are already in the carriage..."

She looked at her father with astonished eyes.

"My trunks? If I remember well, we came here with nothing but borrowed uniforms!"

He smiled at his daughter.

"It seems that you've got a new and very cumbersome wardrobe while staying in the Palace. As your father I can only approve. For once, one of my daughters having found another source of funding to pay her bills, I'm quite satisfied."

He embraced her.

"They made them for you after all, you're the best one to wear them..."

She shook her head.

"But Papa, never have I had so much clothes..."

"It's a common curse with beautiful rich women, dear. They need an extra carriage just for their clothes. And another one for their maids and another one for their pets, and ano..."

She hit him lightly with her purse.

"Stop it immediately, I'm no such woman..."

He sighed and took her in his arms.

"I wasn't aware of it," whispered he, "till I saw this mountain of trunks, dear. It's when I saw them that I really understood what happened to you. They need you to be beautiful and fashionable and famous. They have begun to use you and I will not be able to protect you much longer..."

She hugged him back.

"They won't use me, Papa. I won't let them... We could let all these trunks here..."

He paced back and looked at her mock indignation in his eyes.

"And oblige me to pay for your next new wardrobe?"

She smiled at him and he became very serious.

"Of course we could, but what would it tell to the Prince? What would we leave him as a message?"

He shook his head.

"We can't. We are already prisoners to the politics of two countries. I just hope we are strong enough to survive that kind of pressure..."

She hugged him again.

"We Bennets are strong Papa. Much stronger than everybody believes. We'll show them..."

He laughed silently.

_Yes, we will show them, dear. We will show to the whole world that the Bennets are people who count._

He took her by the arm and pulled her to the carriage where her sisters where waiting.

"No doubt, dear, we will show them all" said he while helping her climb into the carriage. "And I think we have already begun."

* * *

**Next chapter: Pemberley explorations  
**


	44. Pemberley Explorations

Where we see that passion follows everywhere.

* * *

**Chapter 44: Pemberley Explorations**

* * *

**Derbyshire, Pemberley and the Peaks, Thursday the thirteenth August. Ninth day**

* * *

"Miss Bennet, what a pleasurable happenstance..."

She smiled at him and as soon as he opened his arms she found herself in their warm embrace.

After a few seconds reveling in each other's warmth she pushed herself back and her lips searched for his. They had no problems finding them.

The kiss was short if judged by the standards they had laid out a few hours ago but it was long enough for him to feel his loins fill themselves with the unbearable desire to lift her and to run to the next best piece of furniture.

She felt his desire and since it concurred with hers she was not really opposed to giving it a try.

She chuckled.

"Not yet satisfied, Mr. Darcy? I'm more and more convinced that the male part of the human race has only one thought in mind..."

"The rest of the male part, I don't know, but for us, yes, it's true. There's only that particular thought in my mind and I confess it's taking enormous proportions..."

She smiled and sighed just before letting her head rest on his strong and smooth chest.

This very morning she awoke in just that exact position. Her head on his chest, his hand entangled in her hair, and her leg around him in a desperate attempt to secure him forever.

And this morning when she had opened her eyes and looked in his she had seen that surprised look he had each time she smiled at him.

As if he couldn't believe he was having her and holding her in his arms.

"You should stop tousling my hair every time we meet. My maid will soon loose her patience with us."

"Don't be foolish. She'll worship you till the end of time. She won a race against every other maid in a hundred miles radius."

She looked at him with surprise in her eyes.

He smile back and nodded.

"They had all volunteered to be your maid. They were all very disappointed when you chose Anna."

"Better to choose an outsider than to ignite jealousy within a well working staff. And I liked her from the inn. She was always so friendly and open. And it's good that with the arrival of a new mistress a few new faces join in."

He smiled again and she sighed just before laughing.

His glance was loving and with a hint of surprise.

"Why are you laughing?"

"Because I love your smile and because it seems that you never stop smiling these last few days. The last time I saw you not smiling was that peculiar day when we came back from your reverend's home... You weren't smiling at all..."

"I had just been accused of something I had not done! I was vexed!"

"No? I would never had guessed," she laughed at him...

He tried to give her a stern look.

"Don't mock me. I was a victim of a perfidious slander. And if I remember well you made no effort to convince my pastor of my innocence!"

She looked at him and her eyes began to sparkle in the early morning sun.

"And had I known then what I know now, I would have been very upset that you had not done what I would have wished you to do much sooner..."

He frowned at her.

"That was a very complicated sentence for so early in the morning, dear. We should perhaps use only two- or three-word sentences."

"Like what?"

"I love you!"

"I love you too..."

"That's four..." said he while nibbling at her ear lobe.

"Should I retire it?"

"Never," whispered he. "But that was four again..."

"Let's go to six..."

"Let's stop talking..."

She agreed.

* * *

God was he happy...

And so full of regrets.

What could have happened this day in April had he not let fear and forewarning take over his desire.

She was so near and she had not stopped him approaching her.

Her cheeks were hot and shining. And so near. He could remember how her heat was flowing over him threatening to boil his mind in his skull.

She was more beautiful than ever and he had that overwhelming desire in his loins.

A few inches away her lips were begging to encounter his. And he had been so near.

So near...

Blinded by anger and indignation she had accepted his being so near.

He could have kissed her.

He should have kissed her.

He was going to do it. He was going to take what was his, to give those prefect lips the kiss they longed for.

A part of him –he remembered every second of this encounter- was shouting at him to do it, to take her in his arms and to kiss her, to kiss her, to kiss her till the end of all time.

And that other part, that awful and boring and gentleman like part was holding him back.

She would have to marry him but she would hate him to be forced into a marriage she was just there refusing.

'What's the matter?' had shouted that other part. 'She'd be yours! Yours! Don't stop, take her and let her be your wife..."

Both parts of him had fought and the ugly egoistical part was about to win when she withdrew and he had not found the strength to follow.

And that awful void that had taken place within him.

Till a week later...

"Fitzwilliam?"

"Hmmm?"

"Was there a reason for your stopping me in the middle of the Hall?"

"A better reason than this one, you mean?" whispered he.

"There's no better reason than this one, but it's not been a half an hour since we last saw each other. Couldn't it have waited a little longer?"

"I do believe there was another reason, but just now I'm unable to remember. You're filling me from head to toe..."

She purred her satisfaction at his words but then she felt him tense up.

"Indeed, there was a good reason..." said he after a few seconds. "Would you be free to accompany me? I'd like to show you some of the marvels of my domain."

"I would love it but let me remind you that I'm not a very good horsewoman. The horsewoman of the family has always been Jane. I'm more like a sack on a horse's back..."

"That's because of those awful lady saddles. I'll lend you one of Georgiana's secret saddles and then I'll give you one of the riding outfits I outgrew and we will disappear together into the mountains."

"I'd like that,"whispered she in return. "Let's go..."

* * *

She loved it.

For the first time in her life a horse ride was pleasant.

More than pleasant, exciting.

She could feel her horse's movements as never before and she could even feel what she was going to do before she really did it.

What a pleasure to ride in such conditions. And what a shame she had had to wait till twenty-two to get what every boy could have from the beginning.

Her anger didn't last.

After all, it was Fitzwilliam's gift to her. Trousers and a real saddle and a real horse!

She loved the spirited beast who was so eager to gallop and to canter as often as she liked it. And she liked the blood rush she got each time she let her cute little mare do what she liked.

* * *

Fitzwilliam was more than worried. He was at the brink of utter panic. Elizabeth was galloping on paths were he would have stopped and walked their horses side by side.

Finally he had enough space to overcome her and to stop her ridiculous behavior.

He was just going to scold her when she jumped at him and kissed him with a passion that left him out of breath and flabbergasted.

"Fitzwilliam, it's just marvelous! For years I haven't had so much fun..."

She looked at the sky.

"I'm feeling free and as if nothing could stop me..."

Fitzwilliam, who had feared just that same thing, had a few problems sharing his fiancé's enthusiasm. He decided not to show his worry and to bring her out of her stunts with the only thing he knew would calm her.

He leaned over and kissed her.

"If I could give you the opportunity to fly, I would do it..."

She kissed him back with all the exuberance he had learned to love these last nights.

"The last time I felt so happy was when I played bird in the tree with the Meryton children..."

"Bird in the tree?"

She laughed.

"You probably gave it another name, but in Meryton we call it so. It's easy: you climb the tallest tree till you come to the highest branch and there you try to stand straight in order to look over everything and you raise your arms over your head..."

Fitzwilliam whose head was spinning when he looked out of a window felt his stomach squelch in his belly.

"All the boys did it, they had to or they would have been called sissies. Jane and I were the only girls who played along and it was fun."

Fitzwilliam prayed to all gods that his voice would not stammer.

"Pray, tell me you didn't climb yourself. You were along only to look at the boys' exploits..."

She looked at him with surprise in her eyes.

"Of course, I climbed. And since I was much lighter than everybody else, I was always winning."

She sat straight on her saddle and raised her arms to the sky holding herself on the saddle by sheer inner balance.

"I was always the winner. No tree could stop me..."

She sat back, opened her eyes and looked at Fitzwilliam.

"I've seen a few very tall trees in Pemberley, I'm sure you did it here, I'd like to try it..."

He grunted a noncommittal sound and made a great effort not to look too shaken.

That his future wife had survived to join him at the altar of a church was a clear sign that guardian angels existed and that they had, in certain families, a lot of work.

"We'll see, dear," said he. "But meanwhile we are a few hundred yards from the special place I wanted to show you..."

He took the lead and was very satisfied that she could not see his face.

He would have to organize a climb on one of the trees. He would be roped and would have plenty of seconds to safeguard him. But he would climb as high as possible and he would try to look over the foliage.

And if one day she asked him if he had done it he would be able to say yes without lying.

Being called a sissy by his wife was not an appellation he longed for...

And then there was the little matter of their children. He knew he would have to guard the boys but he had had the secret hope that the girls would live a more demure childhood.

But it seemed that it would be as difficult with his daughters as with his sons.

He said a prayer to ask God to assign to them the same efficient Angels who insured the survival of his future wife. He would need them!

* * *

"Wiloby asked me to show it to you..."

Elizabeth looked around them and saw nothing.

"There's nothing here, dear. I see rocks and bushes and trees and that's all..."

He smiled, took her hand and pulled her toward an old oak that was battling against a great boulder and, looking at the angle the boulder was showing, winning his century-long fight.

"We'll have to crawl," said Fitzwilliam showing her a hole just under one big gnawed root.

He took two lamps out of his saddle bags.

He gave one to Elizabeth and lit them both.

Elizabeth already had her head under the roots when he caught her.

"I'll go first..."

"Why? I'm more slender, it would be easier for me..."

"I already know the path and it's tricky and dangerous. Wiloby said there are dangerous passages in some of the side trails. I would not like you to take more risks than necessary."

She hesitated and, finally, accepted and followed him.

He was right after all. If he knew the way it was smarter to let him go first.

She would have other opportunities to crawl in there.

* * *

Half an hour later he was helping her to stand up.

The journey had been difficult but the end result was worth all the strenuous progress of the last half hour.

The chamber, because it was a chamber, was full of sculpted walls where, remnants of paintings were still visible.

"It's Roman..." whispered Elizabeth hushed by the beauty of the scene.

"Probably," answered Fitzwilliam in the same tone. "And this is only one of a dozen chambers. There's even a spring in the middle of the complex and its water is marvelously fresh."

"Show me..."

* * *

They had visited the first six chambers and the various passageways that led from one chamber to the other. And in the last they were stopped by a cave in...

"Probably the old way in," said Fitzwilliam. "It's, with the crawlway, the only possible exit... Some day in the future I'll search where this passageway should come out and I'll send a gang to open it again..."

Elizabeth took hold of his arm and leaned against him.

"Some day in the future... For the moment it's our secret. Let it be so for some time..."

He nodded. He had no problem with that.

Even less than she thought.

"Come with me, there's more..."

"Yes, you spoke of a dozen."

He nodded once more and taking her hand he took another passageway.

Two minutes later they were entering a room with side colonnades and a big recess in one of the walls. And in front of them a statue of a bare breasted woman.

"I believe it's Gaia, the Mother Earth Goddess of ancient times. But it could be Venus. Specialists could probably tell us."

Elizabeth shook her head and advanced to the statue.

Her hand touched the clear marble and a bolt shot through her.

"She's beautiful," said she. "I feel her presence... It's as if she was looking at me."

"That's probably me looking at you," said Fitzwilliam who, meanwhile was at the recess. "I find it very difficult not to..."

She flashed him a smile.

"I don't know what it was in ancient times," said he. "But since Wiloby discovered it, he wanted to use it as a hunting camp. He even brought enough wood to build a bed. Till now he had no opportunity to use it..."

He looked at Elizabeth.

"So there's even a mattress..."

They shared a long glance.

"I looked with care, there's no vermin... And there's not the least chance of someone disturbing us. We could..."

Her eyes began to shine.

"We sure could, couldn't we?"

* * *

**Next chapter: London departure**


	45. London Departure

Soon to be _en route_ to Pemberley.

* * *

**Chapter 45: London Departure**

* * *

**London, Cheapside, Thursday the thirteenth August. Ninth day**

* * *

"Miss Bennet," said Jonas smiling at her. "I'm so happy to see that you're back at home..."

She smiled back.

"Thank you, Jonas. Especially thank you for considering me as part of the family..."

"You always were, Miss Bennet, you always were!" He winked at her. "And, you were also always a favorite of the staff..."

She frowned and looked surprised.

"I have no intention to disappear, Jonas... I hope I'll have lots of opportunities to be said favorite for a long time to come."

"We all hope so, Miss Bennet, but we saw Monsieur d'Arcy and he seemed..."

She raised her eyebrows.

"He seemed?"

Jonas made a face and for the first time in her life she saw him bite his lips.

"Not very..." he hesitated once more. His voice decreased. "Sympathetic..." whispered he.

She smothered a smile.

She could very well imagine d'Arcy in his haughty arrogant superior mood... She had seen him at Rosings when he was upset with Lady Catherine. He would be impressive and in such a mood he would be sensed as rather...

Unsympathetic...

She closed the little distance between her and Jonas.

"Don't be worried," whispered she. "There is another facet to the man. A private face he shows only to me. He's really not so terrible as he seems to outsiders. I hope he'll have the opportunity to show himself to you as he really is... But I believe he could be considered as shy..."

"He don't look like somebody who is shy, Miss Bennet..."

"It's part of his official image, Jonas. He is really much nicer than he seems."

Jonas sighed.

"We all hope so, Miss Bennet. He came and he asked to speak with your father. We all believed he asked for your hand and since he smiled while going out it was easy to conclude that your father has accepted... Since then, we were rather worried for you. We all like your father very much but we feared he was not up to the task to say 'no' to a man who doesn't seem to take 'no' for an answer easily!"

She could see that he wasn't very happy with what he had just said. Criticizing a member of the family would not be an easy thing for such an old retainer. And criticizing nice Mr. Bennet would even had been more difficult.

"And, to be frank, Miss Bennet," added he, "he doesn't seem like a man by whose side you could be happy. He's a warrior, Miss, and war is his business. We cannot imagine you and war coming easily together."

For the first time in his life he took Jane's hand in his own.

"We know he is rich and famous and probably the next Master of the British Isles, but we won't like it at all if you'd say 'yes' because you believe it is your duty. We wouldn't like you to be unhappy. You don't deserve any more unhappiness..."

She thanked him with a smile.

"I thank you, Jonas. I thank you very much, but don't worry. I won't be unhappy, I_ know_ it. All his kindness is for the people he cares for, Jonas. And he cares for me, a lot. Don't be too harsh and don't judge him on the image he shows to outsiders. He's really much kinder than that. I know he'll be the best husband I could have dreamed of..."

He looked at her with doubtful eyes.

"You're sure?"

She nodded emphatically.

"I'm very very sure, Jonas. He's what I want and I'm what he wants. No one could be better matched than us."

He sighed.

"Then, we can only wish you all the happiness in the world, Miss Bennet."

"That's not what I want, Jonas... I wouldn't like taking it all. I just want that part of happiness that belongs to each of us. And now I'm sure he is the one who will give it to me."

Jonas bowed while smiling.

"I'll accept your judgment, Miss Bennet and I'm relieved..."

He took a long breath and his face was back to its usual impassive self.

"We're just sorry that you won't stay, Miss Bennet. It seems that you'll be on the road immediately after the luncheon. Your father wants to be in Derbyshire in time for the wedding..."

Jane's smile blossomed once more.

"That's a point where I fully agree with him. I long to see my sister and I'm very satisfied that we will have a chance to get there in time to assist in the wedding..."

Her father's voice came up from just outside the house.

"We will be there Saturday, dear. For nothing in the world would I miss _that_ ceremony."

He smiled at his daughter.

"How it could happen that Lizzie's antipathy altered into love will be a mystery till the end of my life."

"There was more than antipathy there, Papa. I knew from the beginning that Mr. Darcy was looking at her in a strange and interested manner. It's just a shame she heard him speaking with Charles about her... She can be a little vindictive if spurned..."

Mr. Bennet could only nod.

"Indeed and I can't reprimand her for it. It was a rather ungentlemanly comment on his part. I was quite upset with it myself."

Jane who knew the slight preference her father had always had for Lizzie could only smile at his face. She now knew that he never loved Lizzie better. Lizzie was just the one daughter with which he was the most comfortable.

"I'm sure he has had lots of opportunities to regret it. I suppose Lizzie's first refusal was directly linked with it. I'm happy that they got over that little misunderstanding."

Her father looked at her with surprise in his eyes.

"First refusal?"

Jane frowned before remembering that Lizzie had only confided in her about Fitzwilliam Darcy's first proposal.

"I'm expressing myself very badly, Papa. There was only one refusal. In April, in Rosings, where Mr. Darcy asked her for the first time..."

"Oh... Thank God, I was just fearing she had done it twice..."

"You knew about the Rosings refusal?"

"Mr. Darcy wrote of it in what I could –were I an optimist- consider as his written demand to me." He sighed. "But since I consider myself as a realist let's say he informed me of his wish to propose to my daughter a second time..."

Jane laughed at the mortified look on her father's face.

"I suppose that the war took the decision out of his hands. Being violently in love, he could not wait for you to answer. Uncle Gardiner, I'm sure, was a perfect proxy."

"That he was, dear. That he was... He informed me that he has witnessed more than one untoward behavior on the part of that gentleman. And he seems to have had a willing accomplice in your sister."

Jane winked at her father.

"Don't you play the surprised father. You know as well as I do that, once her mind is set on something, nothing has ever been able to stop Lizzie. And once their apparent dislike for each other was out of the way there was not the least chance that they would not cross a few boundaries..."

Her father's eyes sparkled.

"Would you be speaking out of experience, my dear Jane?"

He received the expected result as Jane's face reddened in the most colorful shades of crimson.

* * *

"Miss Bennet?"

Jane turned around to find herself in front of a well armed and dangerous looking gentleman.

His Irish accent gave away his probable identity.

"Wouldn't you be Mr. Kennedy?"

He nodded and smiled.

"That's me, Miss Bennet and I'm, with a few of my friends, charged to escort you back to the North where your sister's wedding will take place."

Jane curtsied. He was the man who had escorted her mother and sister to Pemberley and his uncle and Charles Bingley to London. And all with efficiency and speed. An honorable man and so a man she could greet like a gentleman.

"I'm glad you could stay with us. It seems that everybody in the family trusts you, a good sign..."

Her smile infected him since his lips went up on the sides.

"I'm not alone and he asked that we let nothing happen. We like to be of service when he asks..."

Jane nodded.

"I heard about your –_and his_– story. I'm sorry for what my countrymen did to yours. It was a sin before God and a crime before mankind and nothing will ever be able to justify such a behavior. We have lost our soul in doing it and it appears that God was prompt in retaliating. And I don't say that just to win your good graces..."

"I have no doubt on that point... You wouldn't have supported the Irish Women League if you'd agreed with your Government's position..."

Jane frowned. She had indeed sent money and supplies to the Irish Women League. How could he...

"The league's given us the list of members. We were careful not to damage our friends' possessions or to bring harm to their households. We Irishmen are a vindictive bunch but we don't leave a proven friend without support when in need. All the contributors to the League will be protected and their possessions guaranteed. We know what it means to be without friends. Our friends will never be alone..."

Jane was no innocent lamb in questions of politics. She had had access to all of her father's newspapers and more than once she had been the first to read the latest political essay her father had bought. She knew what this recently revealed information signified. Since this Irish freedom fighter had access to the member list of the league it was quite clear that the league was not only a charity.

It was more than probable that her money and the money of quite a great number of English ladies had not been used only to feed orphans and to clothe poor people.

"Does that mean what I fear it means?"

Kennedy took a deep breath and made no effort to hide his feelings, half satisfaction, half guilt.

"We had no choice, Miss. Nobody would have helped us without the money to launch the deals. But most went to the kids, I swear..."

Jane could only shrug.

Of course he would swear. Even if he was probably did not know half of what had happened behind the scene of the league.

She shook her head.

Why could there be no honesty in human relations?

She knew the answers: politics and greed and ambition.

But desperate people take desperate measures, and stealing food out of kids' mouthes was probably the least they were ready to perform to get their freedom back.

And that thought brought her back to her own situation.

Now her English countrymen were in the same situation as the Irishmen. Invaded and occupied and if she could judge human nature soon to be exploited and enslaved.

What felonies and treasons would she accept to perform to help her own people?

Were they still her people?

Where would she stand as d'Arcy wife? What would it be to be the wife of the chief tyrant?

Would she be able to play a role in the drama which was being written in Great Britain at this very moment?

And what would be her role in this classical tragedy...

She asked herself the only important question. In front of all these questions, of all these uncertainties, was she still determined to become his wife?

She could still choose the safe way into the future. Become Jane Bingley. She was sure he would accept with joy her coming back. And she even liked him enough to look at their future life together with anticipation.

She shook her head.

It would be a lie. More, it would be a lie born out of cowardice.

Her decision was not an easy one but she could not accept living a lie for the rest of her existence.

She knew Shakespeare's tragedies by heart and even if his female characters were not always the most glorious characters of the plays, she would find a role where she could combine her love as a woman and her duty as an English Lady.

And dying in act one was not the role she fancied.

"So you will be those charged to protect me?"

He nodded.

"Yes, Miss. We will be everywhere around you. But you'll need more than us looking at you from a distance." He looked up and pointed toward a shadowy recess near one of the doors going to the servants' quarters. "That's were she will have a role to play..."

Jane turned around to see a young woman moving toward her.

"She's Maureen O'Sullivan and she will be you new maid," said Kennedy. "He gave her strict orders never to leave you alone with anybody else than him and family. And if strangers are nearby, she will stay and look at them..."

He bowed.

"I'll let you alone, you have a lot to speak about..."

Jane stared at the red haired woman.

She was, in her Irish and cheeky way, quite beautiful.

And the little smile on her lips spoke of insolence, not respect.

"If you don't like what he asked you to do, it would be better to quit and let him find somebody else."

The red head shook her head.

"There's nobody else. I'm the only one he had the time to teach his Asian defense techniques. But don't be afraid, I don't need to like you to do my job to the best of my abilities. I'm not here to be your best friend, I'm here to take the bullet meant for you..."

Her eyes lost all trace of sympathy.

"It's even better for our realationship that I don't like you. I like _him_ and from the way he speaks of you, I know he would be quite upset if something were to happen to you. I'll do it for _him_..."

Jane felt the message intertwined in Maureen's words.

"What is he to you?"

"No need to be jealous, Miss Bennet. We parted a few months ago. We have had our share of common pleasure but it was more and more becoming only sexual. He likes his women in love with him. He's not interested in just being laid... He finally understood that I have never really loved him..."

Jane moved toward her. Maureen didn't react.

"How can you..."

"Because it's the truth," replied Maureen without blinking. "He got me out of jail and out of the bed of a snail of a British officer. That alone would have been sufficient. But since he is probably the most handsome gentleman I ever met, it was even less difficult than I thought. I had very little to do to get his attention..."

She smiled a rather unhappy smile.

"It was even easier than I thought. He hadn't been with a woman for eighteen months. He eagerly responded to my affection..."

Jane was feeling the heat of jealousy engulfing her.

How could he? What was he thinking to toss at her his old mistress? Was he out of his mind?

And then it dawned on her.

Of course he would do it that way. Just to let her know that he had not been a saint while awaiting her and, in accordance with his wish to let her choose another, to offer her one last opportunity to change her mind . To let her jealousy take hold of her and destroy the feelings she had for him.

But that would not be enough to change her mind.

Yes, she was jealous of Maureen. Jealous of her having had what she could, as for yet, only imagine. Jealous of her having been a woman in his arms.

Jealous, jealous and even more jealous than she thought possible...

But her jealousy would not govern her. She would not let that petty and unworthy feeling destroy what she wanted for a life.

He would pay! And dearly.

She would rip out his eyes and bite him to draw blood but she would not surrender at just his first attack.

She took a deep breath and her smile came back.

"Well, since we are condemned to be together for quite a long time, let's not waste it. What can you teach me about him?"

Maureen was struck by surprise. She would have bet all her wages for the next six months that d'Arcy's new ninny would try to attack her...

And she was very ready to defend herself against this wisp of a woman . But that, that serene smile took her by surprise.

"What's the matter," said Jane. "You believed I would attack you? I'm not _that_ silly, my dear Miss O'Sullivan. He charged you with my protection so he does probably believe you're able to perform that task. What I know is that _I_, I'm not..."

A smile came on Jane's lips.

"Not yet... But since he taught you and since he deems you capable of protecting me, we can probably surmise that you could teach me what you learned from him, couldn't we?"

Maureen could only nod silently.

"Well, then we'll have to find periods in our time table where you can teach me what I need to know to protect myself."

"I'm not sure that's what he wants..."

"I'm sure that's not what he wants, but then, does it matter? You seem to have the desire to hurt me. And I have just the same desire. What better excuse than a training bout?"

Maureen's smile came back.

"You'll suffer..."

"What better motivation to progress than the perspective to make you suffer in time?"

Maureen held out her hand.

"You've got a deal, Miss Ninny..."

"For that you're going to pay, you know it, don't you?"

"I'm looking forward to it..."

* * *

"Please meet my new Maid, Miss Maureen O'Sullivan..."

Her father frowned.

"Parentage with Mr. Kennedy perhaps?"

"Not family, Mr. Bennet. But much closer, we shared the cells of the same British Jail. It gave us a lot of shared memories."

"She's here to protect me," cut in Jane before the conversation could become even more bitter. "She will be with me whenever there's a potential danger. He and family, Miss O'Sullian, can be considered as not being potential enemies."

Mr. Bennet took a deep breath.

He should have thought of that. Of course as _his_ future wife she would need a body guard. The world was so full of angry people that there was always a potential killer lurking somewhere.

"Well, than, welcome to the family, Miss O'Sullivan. Let's hope your job will be a safe and calm one."

She shook her head.

"I would like you to be right but I really fear it won't be so safe... I'll do what I can to protect her but it would help if you could begin to take a certain numbers of precautions... Elementary precautions..."

"Such as?"

"Being armed, to begin with... And..."

The list was quite long and it delayed their departure from London a little more than half an hour.

* * *

**Next chapter: London Crowd  
**


	46. London Crowd

Soon to be _en route_ to Pemberley.

* * *

**Chapter 46: London Crowd**

* * *

**London, Cheapside, Thursday the thirteenth August. Ninth day**

* * *

"We have a problem..." said Kennedy while rushing into the house followed by four of his men.

Mr. Bennet sighed.

They had already lost more time than he would have thought possible.

"What's the matter?"

Kennedy went to the nearest window and signaled him to come to his side.

Mr. Bennet did as he was told and looked out the window.

"What do they want?" asked he after having seen hundreds of people standing on the street in front of the Gardiner's House.

"No idea, Mr. Bennet. Only interesting thing, they are calm and don't shout. Good business that. Perhaps it's not a riot..."

"How many?"

"More than five hundred, that's for sure. But there are more on the side streets. Could be more than a thousand..."

"Can we quit the house without being seen by them?"

"No chance, they are everywhere. And they are surrounding the carriages. We would have to force our way through the mob. Could kill quite a lot of them. Lots of women out there. Even saw children. A good sign that, but it does not make our departure any easier..."

Jane's voice came from the upper floor.

"Papa, there are people outside. Lots of people... What could be the matter?"

Mr. Bennet had a very good idea what could be the matter. The only thing he was unable to decide was what they wanted with her?

"No sticks or forks?"

Kennedy couldn't help but laugh.

"I saw a few walking sticks. Could be used as weapons but not in that sort of throng. What I fear are stones. If they decide to begin to throw things at us, the house will suffer..."

"Doesn't look like they would want to destroy us... They..."

A shout came from the mob and soon there was a continuous rumble...

"What happened?" shouted Mr. Bennet toward upstairs.

"They saw Jane at the window," answered Mary. "It's Lydia she just pushed her at the window..."

Mr. Bennet looked back at the crowd.

The people were shouting but they weren't insulting or booing.

"Looks like they are applauding," said Kennedy. "Would it be a meeting of your daughters' supporters?"

"Could be," agreed Mr. Bennet. "But even supporters can become angry and troublesome. It would need only a few opponents to stir this crowd up to mischief..."

Kennedy looked at his men.

"We should take measures to put her out of harm's way. Are the tunnels ready?"

"Everything's ready. We could evacuate everybody within a few minutes. And with Maureen guiding them we could stay and assure the rearguard battle."

Mr Bennet lifted both hands.

"Calm down! We are not yet in a battle situation and I really hope we will be able to deflate this little incident. What we need is to remain calm and collected?..."

"What we need is the crowd to go home," said one of Kennedy's men. "If they stay there, we are cornered and I hate being cornered..."

At that moment Mary came running down the stairs.

"Papa, you must come immediately, they won't listen to me..."

* * *

"Those are your supporters, Jane," said Lydia. "They came to see you..."

"How could they know?"

Lydia burst out laughing.

"Jane this is Town! Everything is known here in less time than you can believe. They know who you are and what you've done for them..."

Jane looked at her sister with surprised eyes.

"I've done nothing for them. Indeed I've done nothing at all..."

"You've protected them against Duroc's invasion, Jane. Everybody in town knows that. You pleaded with d'Arcy and he leashed his crazy butcher..."

Jane could do nothing but shake her head.

"We never even spoke of it..."

Lydia shot her a salacious glance.

"Had too little time or too many encounters to remember the little detail of saving London?"

Jane felt her cheeks heat and was sure that she became as crimson as was humanly possible.

"Lydia! How can you imply that..."

"I imply not a thing, sister dear. I'm quite nosy as you know and I smelt your perfume on your boyfriend when he came asking for your hand..."

She leaned over.

"And I'm sure nobody gets that fragrance without being very near to you or Lizzie. And since Lizzie is in Pemberley probably doing the same as you with handsome Fitzwilliam Darcy, I excluded her as a possible candidate..."

Jane was wrong, one could be more crimson than crimson...

She tried to hush her sister.

"You can't say such things, Lydia, what about my reputation..."

Lydia looked at the heavens.

"Dear God, Jane, what's the matter with you? Your reputation can no more be blemished! He asked Papa and Papa accepted. You're betrothed now to the man who holds all of England in his hand. Nobody will ever dare say anything." She burst out laughing. "He even confessed to Papa of his having kissed you... A very lengthy kiss if I remember well..."

Jane frowned.

"You listened to Papa and d'Arcy!"

Lydia looked at her with surprise in her eyes.

"Of course I listened. Even Mary, with all her haughty behavior and promptness to judge and condemn, listened! We wanted to know! Isn't it natural for sisters to be interested in their preferred sister's love life?"

"You both spied on Papa?"

She shot an outraged glance at Mary who had stayed unnaturally silent these last few minutes.

"I tried to pull her out of the room, Jane. I promise. But she wouldn't let go of the chimney and I couldn't shout... They would have heard us as we were overhearing them... And I would have died of shame..."

Lydia laughed ironically.

"She didn't pull very forcefully, indeed. It was all staged to give her the opportunity to listen while pretending to try to get me out... She spent the whole conversation between Papa and your d'Arcy not uttering a word! If that's not proof enough?"

It was Mary's turn to turn crimson and to look at the floor.

As usual, Jane couldn't stand it when Mary, who was probably the most fragile of them all, was on the brink of tears.  
She went to her and hugged her.

"Thanks for trying, dear," whispered she. "I know she can be quite stubborn when she's decided to get something..."

"I really had no intend to listen. Really..."

"I know, and it's not upsetting me that you listened. It was not in my intention to deny to my sisters his coming to see me. And it's true, he woke me with a kiss..."

Lydia literally shouted her pleasure.

"I knew it, there's no more romantic man than a Frenchman..."

She danced around the room.

"He woke her with a kiss, he woke her with a kiss..."

Both Jane and Mary hushed her.

"Please, not everybody needs to know."

"Yes, indeed everybody needs to know!" She pointed toward the street. "They need to know. Nothing's more romantic than a true love story that shatters everything in its way..."

"We shattered nothing," interrupted Jane. "We..."

Lydia looked once more toward the heavens.

"Jane, please, stop being so reasonable! Let yourself be overwhelmed by love and joy! Let happiness come to you! Holy goodness, Jane, he braved a whole garrison of home guards just to wake you with a kiss! What on earth can be more romantic? What more could drive a maiden into ecstasy!"

Jane stomped toward her sister.

"Cease using words you don't understand..."

Mary saw Lydia's sparkling eyes and knew that she was preparing something.

"Jane, don't! She's..."

But her warning came too late.

Lydia strode back to the window and just when Jane was at her side, she pulled the curtains out of her way and pushed her sister against the window.

Immediately there was a great shout outside and Lydia was behind her raising her hand and forcing her to greet the crowd.

"Smile, Jane, they love you... They just want to see you..."

Mary was already at the door when her father's voice could be heard.

"What happened?" shouted Mr. Bennet from downstairs

"They saw Jane at the window," said Mary. "It's Lydia, she just pushed her at the window..."

Jane heard Lydia's teeth grind when she heard Mary's comment.

"Ugly little telltale," whispered she while smiling at the crowd. "Always telling everything to Papa and Mama..."

Jane couldn't help but greet the waiting crowd with hand movements.

"You should go out, Jane... They are here to see, they are here to hear you reassure them that the French won't raze the city..."

She leaned toward her sister.

"He said something of the sort, didn't he?"

"No, he said nothing about London. We just spoke of us..."

"Oh, it's called speaking, now?" said Lydia trying to be sarcastic. "But it doesn't matter. These people believe in you and in the fact that you protected them and that you will continue to protect them. Let them hear what they want to hear..."

Jane looked at her sister.

"But I don't know anything about what he wants to do with London. He didn't speak about it. It would be lying..."

Lydia shook her head while continuing to smile and greet the people outside.

"It would be saving our life, Jane. Look at them, they want you to reassure them. They won't leave before you do. And if they don't begin to leave soon, they'll stay there all day and all night. And we'll miss the wedding..."

Jane looked at he with anger in her eyes.

"You're forcing my hand..."

"It's necessary, Jane. They won't leave as long as they have not been reassured. And we are blocked here as long as they stay outside. There's no choice there, you must go out and speak to them..."

"Don't let her convince you," interrupted Mary who had come back. "It's way too dangerous. Someone could shoot at you..."

"Look at them, Jane, they are here to worship you, not kill you..."

"One's enough..."

"Don't listen to that chicken, we have no choice. You must do it..."

Seeing that she would never be able to stop Lydia, Mary turned around and began to run downstairs.

"Last chance," whispered Lydia. "She will come back with Papa and I'll have no choice but to surrender to him and then, we'll never be in time for Lizzie's wedding..."

Jane was very aware that Lydia was trying to manipulate her but she was also aware that a crowd could dissolve into a frenzy very soon if it didn't get what it wanted.

And right now they wanted to hear her.

They were seeing her but it was not calming them. She could see that more and more of the people meeting in front of her were becoming each second more agitated. If she let it go on some of them would lose it and then...

Nobody knew...

She looked at Lydia.

"Open the window and please stay with me..."

Lydia smile blossomed like an African giant flower.

"I'll be there, Jane and nothing will be able to tear me from your side..."

* * *

A booming outburst came up in the streets and Mr. Bennet knew he would arrive too late.

A small part of him was relieved that Jane and Lydia had acted before he was able to stop them. But and even greater part of him was scared to death.

What if there was a madman outside with a gun?

Was he about to lose his daughter?

He rushed into the room just when a strange silence replaced the big shout that had just boomed in the street.

He saw Jane and Lydia leaning out of the open window and while Lydia was waving like mad, Jane was very calm.

He came just at the window when she began to speak.

* * *

They were so numerous.

Never ever before had she seen so much people crammed in one little street.

And they looked up at her as if she were a pastor or a bishop. Or something even more powerful.

She shook her head and smiled.

"Well, you wanted to see me," said she in a surprisingly powerful voice. "Here I am. I hope you're not too disappointed because there's nothing more to see. I am not the Holy virgin and I'm not the King... I'm just simple Jane Bennet."

There was a murmur in the crowd and a female voice rose up from the crowd.

"Will they come? Will the French come?"

She looked at the face of the woman who had just spoken. She had a child in her arms and another one was sitting on her husband's shoulders.

"No," said she while shaking her head. "They won't come!"

There was an outburst which was very alike to a sigh of relief.

"They will stay out of London. He doesn't want London to be destroyed. He will wait for the time it takes the Prince Regent to hand the town over..."

A few boos were uttered when she had spoken of the Prince Regent but none when she had spoken of _him_... Why would they prefer a foreign invader to their own Crown Prince?

"Will you live in London?" asked another voice.

She had difficulties understanding to whom they were alluding.

Lydia much wiser in everything gossipy came to her rescue.

"Say yes," whispered she. "They'll love it to know you'll live with them..."

"Of course," answered Jane. "Where else?"

That brought another ovation.

"But now I need to go to my sister's wedding... Soon after the wedding we'll come back... I promise."

That was, once more, greeted with an ovation.

"Let us escort you out of Town!" came a shout.

"Let us escort you!..." shouted hundreds of voices. "Let us escort you!"

Kennedy who was listening from the door immediately gave orders.

The crowd was, for the moment, willing to let them go, he would not let this opportunity pass.

"Move, people," he shouted in the stairway. "I want everyone on horse back within five minutes. Do what you have to do but do it now!"

Jonas and the rest of the staff did what had to be done to insure the swift departure of their guests and ten minutes later they were boarding the carriage and followed by hundreds of people merrymaking around them they exited London in a two-hours long jolly procession.

Lydia, was, until the last moment, leaning out of the window, joking with everyone and always accepting little sheets of paper she was passing inside the compartment to her sister who, shy as always, just smiled and waved to their ever-changing followers.

Each and everyone of the sheets was a grievance or a demand. Jane took each and every one of them and began to read them.

Two days later when they entered Pemberley she would have read all of them.

* * *

**Next chapter: Pemberley Reconciliation**


	47. Pemberley Reconciliation

Where old grudges and tragedies are revealed..

* * *

**Chapter 47: Pemberley Reconciliation**

* * *

**Derbyshire, Pemberley, Thursday the thirteenth August. Ninth day**

* * *

"Could I speak to you, Mama?"

Mrs. Bennet looked up from the plan for the wedding breakfast Mrs. Reynolds had proposed and determined it was, as usual with efficient Mrs. Reynolds, quite perfect.

"Of course, dear, you can. Why would I refuse such a demand?"

Elizabeth inhaled and tried a small smile.

This was not going to be easy...

"Perhaps because you have no desire to speak with one who for the last days has been utterly unpleasant and has shown an absolute lack of respect for her mother?"

Mrs. Bennet looked her in the eyes and smiled at her before standing up and taking her daughter's hands in hers.

"Dear, I know I have not been the mother you wished for..."

Elizabeth tried to protest but a glance from her mother shut her up.

"...And I know very well that in numerous social situations you have cursed the circumstances which gave you a mother such as me..."

Her smile became a very tired one.

"...I'm not totally silly, dear, I have seen the way you sometimes looked at me. I have never taken pride in being the disgrace of the family..."

"Mama!"

Mrs. Bennet shook her head.

"Please let me speak, dear, for once we are both of one mind to speak the truth and be honest with each other, please don't be just polite. I need more than just polite, I need honesty and trust."

Elizabeth could do nothing but nod her head. She really didn't know what to say. She had come to make an apology, share an embrace with her mother and put an end to all that tension which had been souring their relationship.

But she never intended to humiliate her mother.

"Of course, Mama, but couldn't we just..."

"Tsk, tsk, dear. That would not be enough. We both need to say the truth. We both need to be absolutely truthful with each other."

A smile Elizabeth had never seen blossomed on Mrs. Bennet's face. She looked twenty-years younger and Elizabeth was very surprised how handsome her mother could be when she was not pulled down by grief and anguish.

"I really would like to have the opportunity to be a guest in my Darcy grandchildren's house. And I am quite sure that, in your current mood, you'll be more than happy to see _that silly old woman_ disappear from you and your family's life..."

Elizabeth shook her head with vehemence.

"Mama, nev..."

"Trust and honesty?"

That shut up Elizabeth better than any other argument.

Of course her mother was right. She had longed for her departure, she had wished her in London and her father at Pemberley.

"Let's find a spot where we can speak, dear," said her mother while pulling her toward the little guest study where she and Mrs. Reynolds and aunt Gardiner spent most of their wedding-preparation time.

The French doors were open and they had a perfect view of Pemberley's lake. Elizabeth had often seen her mother sitting there and dreaming while looking at the sparkling waters.

But never had she found the desire to sit with her.

Mrs. Bennet chose the little sofa and they sat side by side, her mother's hands still holding hers.

After a moment of stiff silence, Mrs. Bennet began to speak.

"First of all, dear, I must apologize."

"What for? You..."

Her mother stopped her sentence with a glance. Full of –unsuspected-- love and a very disturbing strong will.

"I must apologize because I did neglect you when you were young..."

Since that was clearly something Elizabeth had always blamed her mother for, she said nothing.

Mrs. Bennet shook her head and went on.

"I swear I am not going to hide behind excuses, but to understand why I did neglect you and Jane, you must know something only your father and Aunt Philips and Aunt Gardiner know."

She sighed.

"Are you ready to listen?"

Elizabeth could only nod unable as she was to utter a word.

Mrs. Bennet looked at the waters of Pemberley Lake.

It reminded her of the lake where a young and dashing Eddy Bennet had proposed to her.

Where her life had been altered forever.

"I am not, and I never was, the most clever of women." She stopped Lizzie's attempt to protest with a raised eyebrow. "But from the beginning I was aware that your father did not marry me out of a mad feeling for me but out of a deception that he suffered prior to encountering me."

She smiled at her daughter.

"I loved him madly. He was so..." she hesitated. "So clever, so handsome and he had that way with words to convince me at once that I would give everything to hear him whisper poems into my ears..."

She looked at their hands and nodded once more.

"But he didn't love me. Not in the way I loved him. He liked me, liked me very much and he was quite smitten with my beauty but it was never the love I wished for."

She sighed.

"But I felt that he would stay with me if I could convince him that the tragedy he suffered would never be really healed but with another woman. And being very near to him, I had the best chances to be the chosen one."

She smiled at old memories.

"He was not so difficult to convince and soon, with Jane's birth, our relationship changed for the better. He was a proud father and a solicitous husband and since the Gardiner women are known for their ability to bear lots of children, we had a second daughter on which my Eddy doted even more than on the first..."

She looked at Elizabeth.

"Not that he ever neglected Jane but you were so lively, so full of mischief and energy that he probably recognized himself in you. And soon he was aware that you had also inherited his wit and his cleverness. From that day on, you were his favorite."

There was a moment of silence.

"And than came Mary and Kitty..."

She sighed again.

"And there we made our greatest mistake. I knew he was not very easy with babies around him. He had always shunned the trivial and menial tasks of feeding and cleaning the little ones. He was much more confident with toddlers and young children. So I took the burden of the babies and he accepted the task of educating you..."

She shook her head as if she was acknowledging the old mistake.

"I was sure that after the first two years, when we would be sure that the babies were out of that dangerous period where they could die, I'd be with you again..."

She sighed.

"Than came Lydia and two other years were necessary. And she was so like I would have wished all of you to be that I took great pleasure in tending to her. And so, little by little, I lost you..."

She took a deep breath and gulped down as if something was shocking her.

"And then came the tragedy which divided us, your father and me..."

She looked her daughter directly in the eyes.

"It happened the day following your brother's demise."

She could even smile at her daughter's huge and surprised eyes.

"Indeed, you had a brother. He was my seventh and my first son. He lived a night before dying..."

She shook her head and tears came to her eyes and she couldn't swallow.

Elizabeth took her into her embrace and helped soothe her.

"He looked so healthy, dear. We were quite sure he would live."

She looked at Elizabeth with tearful eyes.

"I know they don't do it so soon but I'm sure he smiled to me just before gliding into his first sleep. The sleep he would never awake from..."

There she broke into tears for a very long time but Elizabeth was lost in a sort of haze where she tried to put together her own memories. Her mother had said that her brother had been the seventh that could only mean that she had had another sister who died before she had even known of her existence.

After a certain time her mother was able to come out of her sadness.

"You should have seen the happy face of your father while holding little Edward. All the fears of the last years had dissolved into the pure bliss of the baby's blue eyes. For the first time in years we could consider the future without anguish and fear. You had a brother and Longbourn would never become the Collins' home..."

Soon new tears came and shattered Mrs. Bennet's composure.

"I drifted into sleep and it was your father's howl that tore me out of it... I opened my eyes and I saw him with the baby in his arms and he was desperate and crying. I knew immediately what had happened. He cried a few more seconds than he stopped, gave me my son and went out of our bedroom..."

She shook her head and new tears rolled on her cheeks.

"He never said a word to me. He just handed me Edward's little corpse and then he went out... He didn't even say a word to me..."

She repeated and repeated this sentence over and over again.

Then she opened her eyes and looked into Elizabeth's eyes.

"And the next two months he never came back to our room and never spoke a word with me."

She bit her lips.

"These two months were pure hell and these two months robbed me of what was left of my sanity..."

After very long minutes she took a deep breath and shook her head.

"The only thing that kept me alive was my duty to the girls. I couldn't let them, I had to continue. I did what I could but I was never again the same. Kitty and Lydia being very young they never really grasped what had happened to me. But Mary, Mary..."

Mrs. Bennet looked at her daughter.

"Mary took it all on her. She was every minute at my side and did everything in her power to alleviate my sorrow. It was then that she became so dull and serious... It's all my fault..."

Once more Elizabeth took her mother in her arms and they cried together for a long time.

Then Mrs. Bennet came, once more, out of her depression.

"I felt guilty, Elizabeth and since my husband would no more speak with me, I went to the reverend to get what solace he could give me. And Mary was always at my side when old Pastor Brewster who was a man full of easy judgments and prompt condemnations, gave us his biblical advice. Mary took the full brunt of his sermons and she came out of that crisis as she is now..." She shook her head. "The most horrible thing with my visits to Brewster was that he was never ever able to give me an explanation why my little Eddy had to die. He could only stammer of God's Will but he was always unable to explain why God could be so unforgiving as to let die an innocent child..."

She took another deep breath and cleaned her wet face.

"And so I lost in the same year, my son, my husband and my faith..."

She took her daughter's head into her hands and kissed her.

"And you, too, dear... I was too cowardly to find the courage to go to your father in order to sort out our mess and so the Bennets were no longer a real family. He would take care of you and Jane and I would take care of the youngest. He wouldn't look at them and I wouldn't care about you... They were without a father and you were without a mother..."

She sniffed.

"Not that it handicapped you in the least, dear. You're so perfect. You and Jane you have found the perfect husbands and you'll be rich and famous. My girls, because I deprived them of their father, will forever be the silliest girls in all England and without your help will probably never find a husband..."

At that very moment, grudges, guilt, pride and arrogance dissolved themselves in Lizzie to come out as tears and for the second time in a few hours and in twenty-two years, Elizabeth Bennet wept into her mother's shoulder.

* * *

While weeping Elizabeth had time to think. And her thoughts were not happy ones.

Here was proud and haughty Elizabeth Bennet, full of arrogance and so sure that she was perfect.

And she had done nothing but misjudge and condemn without even searching at the reasons behind the facts.

Clever, superior Elizabeth Bennet who was, in the end, nothing more than a haughty egoistical haridan.

Jane, who clearly was a Saint had never judged her mother as _she_ had done all her life. While she was condemning the –most untoward-- behavior of her mother Jane had always looked for reasons to excuse her, defending her, helping her.

Elizabeth Bennet, on the other hand, had never even tried to understand what were the reasons behind her mother's foolish behavior.

It had been so easy to judge and condemn and reject that silly old woman who she was never able to accept as her mother.

She felt shame and guilt taking hold of her.

She could not not remember her childhood fantasies where she saw herself not as Mrs. Bennet daughter but as a child her father had found and educated against the avaricious and unkind opinion of his wife. And those fantasies always ended with her _real_ family coming and getting her. And she would be released of her odious step mother to find a real and loving family...

Here and there she felt she could die of shame.

How could she have been so heartless, so insensitive?

What would happen to her if her husband treated her like her mother has been treated?

Would she even be able to survive a two-months' silence?

Would she had found in herself the strength to go on, to care for the little ones?

She doubted it.

And her mother was guilt ridden because of, if she could, for once, be honest, what was her father's doing.

She could understand what had happened.  
She knew him well and she had, a long time ago, fathomed that his sadness was solitary. When hurting he had the tendency to hide and seclude himself from the world, to remain silent for days.

She could only imagine how he must have hurt to remain hidden two long months.

But understanding it was in no way a reason to excuse him for what he had done to her mother.

She knew that, had she been in her mother's place, she would have been in need of two strong arms hugging her and a patient ear listening to her...

And she would have died if she had had that horrible impression that he was condemning her, that he was implying that she was responsible...

_And so one more of these truths Elizabeth Bennet was worshiping is shattered and proven false_.

_Mighty, clever, all-understanding Elizabeth Bennet has just spent twenty years of her life side by side with a woman she was not only unable to understand but too cold-hearted to even attempt to find an excuse for her behavior._

_It was so much easier to believe that she was of another lineage and that she and that crazy little bunch of hysteric humanity had nothing in common._

She hugged her mother with a force she had not found in her for years.

"Mama, it's not true. You've done everything for us you could. Even when we were young you did what you could. Neither Jane nor I were ever alone with only Papa. You were always there. Always."

She went back to an argument her mother has used.

"And don't forget it's your decision that brought me and Fitzwilliam together. You did what had to be done. You did it with your sensitivity and my happiness is not only Papa's doing but also yours... You're not as silly as you think. You're just different and you just do things differently."

She sniffed loudly.

"Mama, please forgive me..."

"Nothing... to forgive, dear... Parent's fault... Never spoke... Children too young... To understand..."

Elizabeth could only shook her head.

How could this woman she had so often spurned defend her and take upon herself all the guilt?

"Not true, Mama... Much to be forgiven... I love you... Please... Always did, just forgot it..."

* * *

Kitty smiled at Georgiana and they both climbed from behind the shutters. They hushed their way toward the garden.

"You have an idea where we could find your brother?"

Georgiana thought about it.

"At this time he is probably at the stables..."

Kitty took her hand.

"Well, let us go and get him. I know a certain sister who will be in dire need of two strong arms and a welcoming shoulder..."

"Did you know the truth?"

"Yes, Mary told us when we were little girls. She's a bore but she believes that siblings must know what happened in the family. I never would have believed that Lizzie and Jane had no idea about what we call the 'Bennet tragedy' when we speak of it. We were just thinking that _they, _like the parents_,_ didn't want to refer to it..."

"It's a sad story..."

"Not sadder than growing up without a mother or a father, dear. Life is rarely easy and very rarely fair."

She smiled at her friend.

"But then, there are those love stories with happy endings who, from time to time, sweeten the sad existences of us poor maids..."

They both laughed and hurried to get Fitzwilliam.

* * *

**Next chapter: Pemberley Pas de deux**


	48. Pemberley Pas de deux

Where haughty aristocrat show their humanity.

* * *

**Chapter 48: Pemberley Pas de deux**

* * *

**Derbyshire, Pemberley, Thursday the thirteenth August. Ninth day**

* * *

It had been an unexpected experience.

It happens from time to time with married people that one of them goes through a very bad period.

But he would never have dreamed that it would happen to his lovely Elizabeth just three days from their marriage.

Kitty and Georgiana had found him speaking with Stevens at the stables and they had insisted that he should hurry back to look after Elizabeth.

"She's probably in great need of you," said Kitty. "The best thing to do is to find her and to let he cry on your shoulder..."

"Cry on my shoulder? Why in God's name would she want to cry?"

Georgiana could only pout and smile at him.

"I'm sure she will tell you and I do believe it will be best that _she_ tells you everything. Take her to the groves, she really needs you now. Don't be afraid, we will cover for you as usual. When she's better we'll be waiting at the marble bank..."

* * *

She was just coming out of the little guest study when he arrived.

When she saw him, Mrs. Bennet smiled, kissed her daughter and went back inside.

Elizabeth was devastated. Her eyes were red and swollen and she was sniffing like mad.

"Lizzie, dear... What happened? Can I be of help?"

He could since she immediately found her place against him, her head resting against his chest.

"I'm a bad person..;" sniffed she. "I'm not worthy of you..."

He was quite satisfied to hold her and to whisper his love into her ears when she suddenly lashed out. She looked up and _hit_ him!

She was not strong enough to hurt him but the simple fact that she did it, was shock enough to paralyze him.

"And you are all so egoistical," shouted she. "How can you be so dumb? All we want is to have a little space in your arms and your listening..."

The lashing stopped as it had begun and she was soon back crying into the pit of his shoulder.

He decided that being upset by her unjust behavior against him was not the most intelligent thing to do just now.

Clearly something had upset her and pouring oil on that fire would help neither one of them.

He took her in his arms and began to carry her toward where Kitty and Georgiana were waiting.

He was sure half of Pemberley was looking at them and he was even more sure that the other half would have joined the first half before they could disappear into the trees around the lake.

So be it! She was his wife and he would not let her alone when she was in need of his help.

Let them spread more rumors!

They'll survive.

* * *

Two hours later, she was dozing in his arms and they were both lying on her moss bed in the grove. They were both still dressed and as it seemed they would have no opportunity to go into more physical conversation.

The time was just not ripe for that.

His Elizabeth was exhausted and what they had just experienced together had been the most strange event of his life.

She had told him everything. Never would he have believed that witty Lizzie Bennet could be so talkative. She had talked and talked and talked.

She had told him of hundred of things –_mostly her numerous sins against her mother–_, had accused him –_repeatedly_– that, as a man, he was an egoistical unfeeling monster and –o_ften_– that she was a bad person and not worth of anybody's love...

That last part had been the easiest. He had easily been able to demonstrate that she was wrong and there was at least one person who still loved her and who refused to see her as a bad person.

One thing he had understood very soon in their little time of being together was that, in the future, he would never let her alone when she was hurt or grieving.

Clearly she was very upset with her father because of his behavior.

He had fled and had let her mother alone to bear her own guilt.

He could understand why his future father-in-law would have the urge to hide and to cry in secret.

But clearly doing that, he had multiplied the grief of his wife and inflated the guilt complex she was already feeling.

He should have been at her side.

Just holding her would have been enough. Clearly they didn't need someone who spoke to them, they just wanted you to listen to them.

Elizabeth had done all the speaking and the only words he had uttered in two hours were one syllabic words and three-word affirmations...

And she had asked for nothing more.

And now, after the flood she was there, exhausted and shivering but clearly very happy to be allowed to be at his side and in his arms.

This was a lesson he would never forget.

To soothe her, take her in your arms and let her do all the telling, shouting and crying she needed. And, from time to time –when she was breathing was a good time–, just remind her of your love. And that should be enough to set in motion the healing process.

* * *

Finally she came out of her slumber.

Her smile was the best thing he had ever experienced in his life and he responded with one of his own.

"Hello, my love... Do you feel better?"

She nodded and took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry..."

"Don't... It was important for you and it was the best lesson I could receive. Never will I let you alone when you're hurt. I wouldn't like it because when I hurt I like to hide but I will hide in the shadow of your words and not in the solitude of my own bitterness..."

"Nicely said..."

"I prepared my speech while looking lovingly at your face..."

"Again nicely said..."

"I had nothing better to do than to love you and admire you and prepare myself for the sublime moment when you would be able to look at me anew and see the man who loves you and not the generic bad insensitive husband.."

"I'm sorry..."

"Don't! As I said I love knowing even before our marriage what would have been my greatest mistake. I'll probably have my share of failures but forsaking my hurting wife will not be one of them."

She smiled at him.

"I love you..."

"I do hope so! It would be nice to have a little compensation for all those ugly words you pelted me with."

"Did I?"

He kissed her nose.

"Yes, but I accept to bear that very special culpability. I would have reacted just the same as your father did and I would have probably been even worse since I tend, when I'm badly hurt, to take a horse and to run away to the end of the world. Doing so, I would have hurt you so much more. I promise to come to you and speak with you each time I feel like taking a horse to the end of the world..."

She kissed him.

"I would like that very much."

"There's nothing I wouldn't do to make your smile come back."

"I know..."

* * *

Fitzwilliam Darcy sighed. His manager smiled at him and asked to be released.

Knowing it was because of his own tiredness that he was so kindly asked he nodded and called the meeting to an end.

"We'll go on tomorrow, Matthews. I fear I'm no longer able to work today. It has been a difficult day and I'm not sure I'm still able to make sound decisions..."

"We went through most of the important issues. Tomorrow I'll have the chariots to transport all that's important to Man's caves. In less than a week what's precious in Pemberley will be there and as you know those caves can be very easily defended..."

Fitzwilliam nodded.

He was evacuating his most precious family riches. But that was only the apparent movement. What he was really doing was evacuating his retainers' families toward his most protected estate.

The family was in possession of a real medieval castle on the Isle of Man and –unknown to most people-- underneath there was the biggest complex of caves and underground warehouses that could be imagined. And there he would send the families of all those who had accepted to fight at his side against the invaders.

He would have gladly sent Elizabeth and the rest of the family there but it would wait till Monday. When he was married he would ask her to go.

He already knew the answer but he would nevertheless ask. Perhaps would she accept.

The return from the grove has been a glorious moment.

Never before had they felt so connected. Even making love had not brought them such a feeling of completeness...

When they arrived Williams and the others were already waiting.

He went immediately to work. But all the time of his meeting she had been with him.

* * *

He went out of his study in search of her.

There was music and laughter coming from the music room and he wondered if it would be her.

Trying to surprise her, he chose to go through the north dining room to peek into the music room through what could be called a concealed door.

Doubly concealed since the door was cut into one of the wood panels and behind a curtain which was a few inches from the wall and could easily hide a discreet listener.

He had that "special entrance" cut into the wall a few years earlier when Georgiana was studying with her first music teacher and so shy that the sole presence of a listener would destroy her concentration and spoil her efforts.

So he came discreetly to listen without disturbing her.

* * *

He opened the door and slid through the door without touching the curtain.

He was a little disappointed when he saw that it was not Elizabeth practicing but Mrs. Gardiner's daughters with Georgiana and Kitty practicing the new dances to her mother's piano forte.

He was tempted to immediately retreat but hearing his name spoken by Georgiana and his curiosity awaken he stayed.

* * *

Kitty was quite satisfied with her day.

With Lizzie's and her mother's uneasiness settled, she was quite happy but she was even more happy when she saw how much Georgiana was blossoming in her new role as dance teacher.

She was quite satisfied that that idea was much more successful than her plot to bring her sister and mother together.

Since she was at Pemberley she and Georgiana had become very close friends.

Georgiana was much more accomplished than her and Kitty longed to be only half as perfect as Georgiana appeared.

But there was one point where she was much more accomplished than Fitzwilliam's sister and that was in matters including social encounters.

Because Georgiana was as shy as could be possible without falling into fits.

And, probably thanks to Lydia, Kitty has fathomed a long time ago that being shy was an excellent thing... But only if it was a part of the game.

Men love shy maidens.

So it's only good politics to appear as shy as necessary.

But the key word was 'appear'!

Georgiana did not appear shy, she was really, really shy...

And so Kitty had taken it upon herself to pull her friend out of her disadvantage in order to teach her that shyness should be a weapon used and not a failing which would hinder and trap her.

And Kitty's chosen weapon to cure Georgiana of her shyness had been music and dance.

Because even the most foolish master of male predominance was convinced that girls and women must be able to dance.

They thought so because they liked to dance themselves but their reason was of no importance to Kitty since it gave her the opportunity to push Georgiana into a role she would never have accepted under normal circumstances.

With the help of the Gardiner family she had succeeded in trapping Georgiana who was kinder than shy.

Faced with two would be pupils begging for her help to learn the latest dances she had had no choice but to accept becoming their teacher.

Of course Emma and Alicia had already had lots of dance lessons but they were quite agreeable in feigning less expertise than they already had.

And so it happened that two hours a day, Miss Darcy the shy Mistress of Pemberley ,was changed into a witty and facetious dance teacher.

Being the most skilled dancers Georgiana and Kitty would play the role of the man in the couples they formed with Emma and Alicia.

And to give her lessons more fancy Georgiana often intermingled her teaching with impersonations of male dancers of her acquaintance.

* * *

And just as Fitzwilliam was looking she was impersonating her uncle the earl.

And Fitzwilliam immediately recognized him. He was always putting as much distance as possible between himself and his partner and he was every second step taking a look at said partner as if to ensure himself that she was not trying to jump him.

Fitzwilliam had problems smothering a laugh.

The impersonation was good, really good and the way she shot rapid glances at Emma was very funny and very accurate.

Then while coming towards him, she played the role of his cousin the now general.

He was quite the opposite to his father. He would brush his partner of often and as sensually as possible. And he would flutter his eyes in a ridiculous fashion he believed –_and he was the only one of Fitzwilliam's acquaintance_-- was irresistible for the opposite sex.

Once more he was very close to betraying himself with a smothered laugh.

Georgiana was so focused on her show that she didn't notice him.

Not so with Kitty who smiled at him and, as soon as they turned again winked at him while making a sign to make him join her and Alicia.

"Please show us Fitzwilliam's dance pattern, Georgie... He's the one you do best..."

Fitzwilliam discovered that he was quite interested by the prank Kitty was proposing and soon he was taking her place as Alicia's dance partner.

And being just behind Georgiana he was quite shocked at what he saw.

Never in all life was that impersonation him!

He was not _so _stiff and –by God-- never so _haughty_...

But then he recognized movements he knew himself doing. And in the middle of the show he was quite sure that his sister was playing him with as much accuracy as she did his uncle and his cousin.

The dance went on and at a moment the movement forced them to turn around.

He went on and made great efforts to continue the dance as naturally as possible.

He danced till the end of the room and when it was time to turn around another time he was quite satisfied to find out that his sister had followed him without saying a word but that she was still mimicking him in the most outrageous fashion.

Mrs. Gardiner got to the end of the dance and while Fitzwilliam bowed they all applauded him.

He bowed once more and smiled at his sister.

"As you've seen, sister dear, if some of your impersonations were quite successful, the last was clearly excessive..."

He darted a defiant glance at his sister.

And to his great satisfaction she held her ground.

"Not in the least, Fitzwilliam. I even believe that it is my best. How could it be otherwise since I have you before my eyes every hour of every day?"

He acknowledged the pique with another bow.

"Touché! I might nevertheless protest, I do believe you play me a tad too stiff..."

"That's only the case when you dance, Fitzwilliam. In real life you're much more amenable."

He smiled at her.

"I'll accept your judgment and thank you, Georgiana."

He bowed toward the Ladies and disappeared behind his curtain.

He was quite happy.

It seemed that the Darcys were changing a lot being in contact with the Bennets.

And, if he could give his opinion, it was only for the best.

* * *

**Next chapter: London Truce**


	49. London Truce

Where politics shows its nose...

* * *

**Chapter 49: London Truce**

* * *

**London, Thursday the thirteenth August. Ninth day. Late.**

* * *

**London, Friday the fourteenth August. Tenth day. Early morning.**

* * *

He came.

And with him three of his generals.

He had introduced them and his eyes had lingered on the famous Duroc. He was there perfectly still and looking at him and his generals as if they were snakes he wanted to stomp viciously.

He was quite impressive. Not handsome but impressive. His short red brown hair was curly and unruly.

But what was the most impressive were his eyes. Eyes that really seemed to pierce the people he was looking at.

At d'Arcy's left was Murat. A giant of a man and quite handsome if one liked a smiling moon face.

At his right, another general Kellerman who was probably there because he spoke perfect German and so able to understand what he would say to his private Hanoverian counselors.

So much for that little advantage.

"Thank you for coming."

D'Arcy let a smile light his handsome face.

"At this peculiar moment, seeing you is the best thing that could happen."

"Don't dream, I won't surrender..."

Duroc was immediately on his feet.

"_Parfait, on sait ce qu'on voulait savoir et mes gars sont prêts. Laissez-moi raser feu la Capitale de feu l'Empire Britannique._..1"

D'Arcy just shook the head and Duroc took his place with a very loud grunt.

"You shouldn't use too many negations, Your Highness. My dear Duroc is a little nervous and quite unhappy that I have held him back these last hours. As he says his men could storm London in a matter of minutes and he's persuaded that we should make an example while you are in Town..."

"V'got a guillotine in luggage," grumbled Duroc in his very bad English while harassing his hat.

D'Arcy didn't loose his smile.

"Old habits never die..."

His eyes were sparkling when he went on.

"Since you won't speak of surrender, why are we here?"

"We could negotiate a Peace Treaty..."

D'Arcy shook his head.

"Sorry, not my field of competence. If you want to discuss a Peace Treaty that's a State to State matter and you need one of the Consuls. As the Proconsul for foreign shores, I can only decide for what's under my authority. And as for now that's Great Britain. And to be even more precise occupied Great Britain..."

The Prince Regent sighed.

"A Truce?"

"Probably," answered d'Arcy. "It depends on what you propose."

He raised a hand before his opponent could speak.

"But let's be very clear, I don't_ yet _occupy the whole of Great Britain but I will, for the sake of these negotiations, consider that my armies are already in possession of the whole island, Wales and Scotland included. You have nothing to prevent my forces taking it. Your only hope would be a general levy and you know as well as I what would happen if you sent green soldiers with too few weapons and too little training against my veterans. It would be a butcher's work and the butcher's toll would be immeasurable."

His smile disappeared.

"You could choose that path to push your population into unrest and revenge. But let's, once more, be very clear, I will do what's in my power to avoid such a fate."

He pointed toward Duroc.

"If I feel that that's what you want I'll give him free reign to get you..."

"Yeah..." rumbled Duroc showing that if he had an awful accent he had quite a good understanding of the language.

The Prince Regent made a face. He knew what was Duroc's role in these negotiation but that didn't mean that he would not be as bloodthirsty as he was showing it...

"...And even if you should muster a levy, I'll do everything to convince them that they are sacrificial lambs, pushed under the grinding stone for political reasons. And I will give them all the opportunities to desert before I kill them. I will lose time but I won't give you the satisfaction to destroy all my efforts to preserve civilian life and private property..."

The Prince of Wales could only shake his head in denial.

"I'm no fool, monsieur d'Arcy. I know where I stand and what are my possibilities. I also know that calling the mustering of a levy would manipulate the population into your hands. If I call them to arms in such a situation with my popularity they will refuse to answer since I no longer have the army to force them..."

"You could in London..."

"It would be the decision to trigger the Revolution you would like..."

d'Arcy shook his head.

"You misjudge me, Your Highness. I'm not interested in a Revolution. I'm interested in a smooth evolution with a quiet and, if possible bloodless, change of government..."

"What about the deported gentry and priests?"

d'Arcy frowned.  
"What about them?"

"Will you go on with your deportation practices?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Because it could be part of the Truce to let them remain at home..."

"Why would I make that extraordinary concession? I don't deport these people because I like to separate families but because I deem it necessary. I do believe that they would be the leaders of dozens of resistance cells I would never be able to crush." He shook his head. "I would be forced to maintain five armies in Great Britain just to have peace on the roads. And even those would only be secure in daylight. The night would still belong to the rebels..."

He sighed.

"I have spent twelve years in the Chinese Empire. I know what to do to secure the peace in a conquered land. Deprive the people of their leaders and let new ones emerge. And if I have my saying those leaders will be people who have understood that the new regime brings more than the old..." He looked at his opponent.

"You know when was the only moment the Son of Heavens did not deport –or more often kill-- the elite of a conquered land?"

The Prince Regent could only shake his head. The History of Britain had never interested him. What happened in the rest of the world left him even more indifferent.

"When he had given said land to a new Lord and ordered him to pacify it. Just to see if that new Lord had the guts to do what was necessary to build his nest in other peoples homes..."

d'Arcy shook once more his head.

"I refuse to do it that way. It's much easier for everybody –even the deportees-- to just exile the people who could be dangerous. There will be rebels and freedom fighters but fewer than if I let the Gentry go back where they could do what they wanted. And there's a truth which will stand as long as mankind is ruled by egoism: what happens to the other doesn't matter as long as it does not touch me... And since there are fewer members of the Gentry than other people, deporting them will stir much less trouble than crushing down a general rebellion. Not to discount the general and common pleasure to see the once rich and mighty having been pushed from their pedestals."

The Prince Regent sighed.

"We could compromise on the members of the Clergy... The archbishop of Canterbury is presently in Town and he would be very glad to have a word with you. I didn't include him in our little meeting." He stopped and looked at d'Arcy. "_Yet_! But he's not very far. We could, with your authorization, invite him to be part of the negotiation..."

d'Arcy shut his eyes a few seconds.

"If you want to include him, I won't vote against. But I'm not sure he will be able to change my mind. My opinion of most members of the Clergy is not the best. I've seen members of perhaps two dozens clergies and the only one who gave me confidence in God's existence was the Buddhist Clergy. And then, even there I saw such who would profit..."

He waved with his hand.

"If you want him to take part, don't hesitate longer, call him. I had already decided to meet him. Why not save me a journey to Canterbury."

Two minutes later, the archbishop of Canterbury was greeted by everyone, even Duroc who was able to muster the old man as if if was the candidate for his next hanging.

"Your Grace," said d'Arcy while looking at his new opponent. "What can I do for you..."

"You could give me back my shepherds..."

d'Arcy made a face.

"People are not cattle, Your Grace. They think and they have their own opinions. They don't need shepherds, they need honest and trustworthy leaders. I can't accept that never-ending necessity to consider them as children or animals..."

He leaned forward.

"And each human being has the right to believe or not to believe. I hate intolerance and there's no better ground for harvesting intolerant fanatics than some clergies. I spent a few months in Egypt you wouldn't imagine how much hate there is between the Chii clergy and the Sunnii Muslim and they believe in exactly the same sentences that God is considered to have given to the sole religious leader they both acknowledge..."

He shook his head.

"In my eyes, religions have lost all credibility."

"But you spoke of tolerance, monsieur d'Arcy. Most of the people in Great Britain follow the word of the Church of England. Even the woman you court is from our faith. Would she be wrong?"

That brought a smile on d'Arcy's face.

A smile that climbed to his eyes and ended in a whole hearted laugh.

"That's brilliant, Your Grace. Indeed Jane Bennet believes and follows the teachings of the Church of England and I won't try to convince her to change. I will even accept that she raise our children in that faith... As children they need advice and directions, but I will allow them the ultimate choice. If, after having been raised and taught in the Anglican faith they should decide to change, even to atheism, I won't hinder them..."

The archbishop smiled back.

"Most people are simple people, they need advice and direction as if they were children. Most don't have the instruction you'll give your children in order to let them choose."

d'Arcy shook his head.

"That won't be true very much longer, Your Grace. We will engage teachers and we will create schools in every important village. We will lessen the burden of taxes on the common people in order to give them the possibility to let their children go at least five years to school. And the school will be our instrument of bringing them into the mold of the Republic. They will have other advisers than the village priest or the local lord's manager..."

"You spoke of choice, monsieur d'Arcy. If there's only your _state_ teacher left, what choice will they have? Wouldn't it be better to give them the means to choose in the perfect knowledge of what they could gain on either path?"

"I would be undoubtedly better, Your Grace, but if I free your pastors you'll have months if not years in advance to persuade the people that our teachers will only bring nefarious effects to their lives and they won't send their children..."

"We could be allies, monsieur d'Arcy..."

"Allies? Let me remind you of who's the head of the Church of England... Do you really believe a State and a Nation can accept that a foreign ruler has on its soil thousands and thousands of agents who could very well stir up the general misgiving of the population..."

"I had not forgotten, monsieur d'Arcy. But there's a precedent there. Our church is implanted in our late colonies and there we found a way to be accepted by the new rulers..."

d'Arcy frowned.

"Are you just doing what I suspect you of doing?"

The archbishop shrugged his shoulders.

"I don't know what you suspect, monsieur d'Arcy but you must understand my position. I'll have, if you conclude you invasion as I believe it will end, thousand of members of my Clergy who will be either deported or on the run. All our possessions will probably have been confiscated and sold to members of the French ruling class. What your invasion really means for the Church of England is nothing less than her disappearance. And I won't accept that without looking for an exit. And if that exit is a change of the power structure of the Church, I'll choose that!"

d'Arcy looked at the Prince Regent.

"You knew of that issue?"

The Prince regent nodded.

"We spoke about it this morning!" He sighed. "We all know why the King of England has been chosen to be the head of the Church. That problem is now without any importance. Even more since our Hanoverian dynasty comes from another protestant faith and has always looked at that 'Head of Church" business with a little unease. We could accept to cease to be the head of the Church if that could mean the end of the deportation for the Church's Clergy."

d'Arcy looked at both his opposites.

"And I suppose you have already a power structure to propose?"

The archbishop smiled.

"Indeed, we have even more than one. And we would accept either of them if one would find your approbation..."

d'Arcy nodded.

"Alright, let's see what you propose..."

* * *

Five hours later the Church of England had another Head in the person of the current Archbishop of Canterbury and the Proconsul d'Arcy, as Head of the Government of Great Britain, the right to nominate the Archbishop, to propose candidates for the Church's positions and to impeach any priest of the Church be it in a Parrish or a Bishopric.

After all parties had signed d'Arcy gave the document to his Adjutant.

"All Clergymen I deem acceptable will be released within the next few days and brought back to their Parishes."

"You deem acceptable?" asked the Archbishop.

"I was very well prepared in order to succeed on more levels than just the military one. I know all the Priests who would be a problem for me and my men. They are not very numerous but they would be sufficient to stir the people in certain counties. These won't go back! You'll have the list of Parishes who will be free for new candidates... Since I have the possibility to impeach nominated Priests, I'll make you my Proxy for these nominations. I hope my confidence has been well placed..."

The Archbishop nodded.

"I'll be vigilant on the 'tolerance' level of my new priests..."

"That would be a very good beginning, Your Grace."

* * *

"Well," said d'Arcy after the Archbishop's departure. "You just lost your status as Head of the Church of England, we could perhaps go on? You surrender and give me the Crown of England and I even let you go home with what's left of your Army to your Hanoverian Duchy... It should be enough to convince Napoleon that you are a nut too tough to crack..."

"The Crown is not mine to give..."

"And the Church was?"

The Prince Regent smiled.

"No, but then the real head of the Church was there and was obviously interested in the bargain. That should suffice to convince my father who never liked being, as he said, 'General of Priests'. On the contrary, he really enjoyed his status as King of England and Great Britain..."

d'Arcy smiled back.

"And you still hope to get it for you one day in the future..."

The Prince nodded.

"Indeed, monsieur d'Arcy. I do..." He sniffed loudly. "I'm not a good student of History but for evident reasons I was very interested in what was happening in France these last twelve years. And from what I saw I do not believe your Napoleon will be the ruler of France for more than a few years."  
He looked at d'Arcy with smiling eyes.

"He has too many and too powerful friends who have their own agendas... I, for my part, will be there for many years to come."

"That could change in matter of days..."

The Prince shook his head.

"No, monsieur d'Arcy, it won't. You're an ambitious man but from your strategic movements and because of what you said to me, I'm sure you don't want to do another regicide. My survival is a part of your plan. And knowing that, I'm rather confident that we will strike a bargain today..."

"Plans can be changed..."

The Prince nodded to this affirmation.

"I don't doubt it, but I don't believe you are ready to change them... You've invested too much in them until now and, last but not least, you have new -_personal_- reasons not to change them. And I'm egoistically going to abuse you of all those reasons to get the best deal possible..."

"I won't be easy..."

"Where would be the fun of it, if you were? But I have seen you negotiate with the Archbishop, monsieur d'Arcy, it gave me interesting details on the way you think. I'll do my best to get more than the Archbishop."

d'Arcy's smile was back.

"Let's begin, than..."

* * *

Late in the Night d'Arcy and his officers were mounting their horses...

"That went well" said Duroc. "You got what you wanted..."

"We both got what we wanted," answered d'Arcy. He smiled at his general.

"You were perfect today..."

Duroc smiled impishly.

"You know I love to play _that_ role. It comes so naturally with my bulk. Most people believe a man of my features can only be a bully and a brute..."

"And you play it like a master comedian... I'm not sure it helped in the negotiations but his generals were quite subdued."

"They were never a problem. They no longer have the fighting spirit in them. They just wanted to run and hide. And that's what they got..."

"Indeed, Duroc, that's what they got!"

At this moment d'Arcy's private secretary came running out of the Palace.

He had a bundle of letters in his hand and he showed them to his boss who took them, looked at them and smiled.

"He signed them himself..." said his secretary. "Said '_à tout Seigneur, tout Honneur_'..."

d'Arcy's smile increased.

"Himself? It's even better than I hoped." He took the bundle and put it in his jacket pocket.

"Now, since we have everything we needed, let's go North. There's a wedding that awaits me..."

His secretary made big eyes.

"Now? It's long past Midnight..."

"And? I'm not interested in sleep, Benevento. I believe I could ride without a stop just to look into her eyes..."

"But _I_'m interested in your survival," countered the Secretary. "Your bed is ready and I'll wake you at first light. We have horses waiting every fifty miles. To be in time, you don't need riding now but to arrive, we need you in good health..."

He made a face and his eyes sparkled.

"And I'm sure she would prefer to get you on your feet and walking than broken on a litter..."

d'Arcy nodded. It was perhaps time to remember that he was no longer a teenager even if he felt like one.

"Perhaps you are right..." sighed he. "First light, then..."

"First light, sir..."

* * *

_1 / That's it, we have our answer and my boys are ready! Let's go and raze the late Capital of the late British Empire..._

* * *

**Next chapter: Pemberley Doubts**


	50. Pemberley doubts

Where questions are raised about future and status...

* * *

**Chapter 50: Pemberley Doubts**

* * *

**Derbyshire, Pemberley, Friday the fourteenth August. Tenth day. Morning.**

* * *

It came slowly without her seeing it coming.

Yesterday she was perfectly happy and confident and this morning she was crying in her pillow.

This morning she was, there were no other words, desperate and lonely.

She was even scared.

In two days, there would be a new Mistress of Pemberley. In two days, she would no longer be the most important lady of Pemberley. She would be...

What would she be?

The sister...

The guest who was there till someone, a gentleman with enough income, would be chosen by her brother to become her husband.

What was she really?

A piece of property to be brokered on the town marriage market?

She sniffed in her pillow and tried to come out of her depression.

_Look at the bright side_!

Now she had not one but two sisters. And one who was so fun and with whom she got along so well that they could spend hours laughing and playing and gossiping...

And it had helped her immensely to see that admiring light in Kitty's eyes.

She herself would never have thought that someone like Kitty would admire her. She who was so lively, so easy with people, so unlike her...

But she had seen it now and again and, each time she had been fooled by the feeling it gave her.

And than there was Mrs. Bennet and Mrs. Gardiner.

Perhaps Mrs. Bennet even more than nice Mrs. Gardiner.

Because for Mrs. Bennet, she was not the Lady Princess of Pemberley. No, she was just nice, shy Georgiana. A real girl who would be treated exactly as Mrs. Bennet treated Kitty. With love and that innate caring she was beginning to associate with what a mother would be doing.

But, since the arrival of the Bennet-Gardiner clan she was also feeling odd.

They had come and they had –_literally_– made Pemberley their home.

And while they made Pemberley their home she felt more and more as the stranger in her own house.

She knew it was foolish! That nothing had changed. That the staff and Fitzwilliam went on treating her like they did in the past.

She was Fitzwilliam's sister and that would never change.

Suddenly she was filled with doubt.

Yes, she still was Fitzwilliam's sister. But was she still Fitzwilliam's _beloved _sister?

He was, daily, showing what it really meant to love. And Elizabeth was showing her what it really meant _to be loved_!

And clearly she was not loved in that manner.

Nobody loved _her_ like that!

A great and oppressive loneliness came upon her...

And in two days she would no longer be the Lady of the House.

Would she fall from the most important Lady of Pemberley to the intruding relative who was no longer welcome?

Would she feel her brother's love for her dwindle away and disappear?

Would he, as soon as Elizabeth was pregnant, even notice her?

Would he, as she had seen it so often, go out of his way to find her a husband in order to get her out of Pemberley as soon as possible?

It wouldn't be the first time such things had happened and with thirty thousand pounds there would be more than her share of suitors ready to take her even if they did not love her as one could be loved when...

Her eyes welled up with tears and she could do nothing but cry and cry and cry...

She tried to force herself out of that depression but as much as she tried she returned always to the ugly picture of her imagined future.

Always those ugly questions came back and always she was looking at her future unhappy and betrayed self who would suffer under the rule of a man who only wanted her fortune and would never love her...

She cried herself into an fitful and unpleasant sleep.

* * *

"Georgie?"

She woke up and Kitty immediately knew what was hurting her friend. She had had her own sisterly despairs and she could very well imagine that at two days from ceasing to be the Mistress of Pemberley some ugly questions would come up and haunt her lovely and unsure friend.

But as usual she would not come to the problem directly.

_First I need a little smile to build on_...

"Your dress does no longer fit?"

Georgiana looked at her with wide –and red– eyes.

"Not your dress, than," acknowledged Kitty. "Everything else will be easily solved, you'll see..."

She sat at Georgiana's side and took her hand.

_No smile... Well, it will be a little more difficult. But there's no sisterly sorrow that has ever resisted me! That one will be crushed as the others_.

She could only too well imagine what kind of questions would and could push Georgiana into a crying fit.

_Time for a frontal attack! Nothing less will give her the strength to speak of it_...

"You are worried that Fitzwilliam's going to betray you as soon as he's married? Isn't it?"

Georgiana's eyes grew even more and were immediately full of unshed tears.

Not for long, a few seconds later Georgiana was crying on Kitty's shoulder who, as she was experienced with such crying fits, would just wait and see how long her sister would need to recover.

Once the tears ceased falling, she would be able to speak to her.  
Meanwhile, there was nothing to do but await the end of the crisis.

It was a long one and Kitty had problems resisting her desire to speak. But each time she stopped and forced herself to wait.

If she intervened too early there would be no real healing.

The weeping began to ease and a little smile appeared on Kitty's lips.

_Soon it will end and we will be able to speak_...

A few second later Georgiana raised her head out of Kitty's bosom and sniffed at her friend.

Since she had that 'sorry to not be as perfect as my so much more perfect brother would await it from me' air Kitty decided that the time had come to experience a little therapy.

"Don't let your imagination run away with you dear, that's not what is going to happen... Never will it be as easy as that for you to escape from your brother's protection."

She tried a smile.

"You will lose track of him for a few days, just the time he and my sister will need to explore what's not yet explored of the love life of wedded persons..."

That got her a reaction.

_So, little sister is still able to be shocked... Well, I'll take that as a beginning_...

"...But as soon as they have finished with their little journey, he will be back with all the guilt you can imagine because, out of selfishness, he has not been there to rule your daily life as usual. You must have noticed that these last days, since his whole mind was focused on my sister's..." she hesitated. "...Charms, he left us wonderfully alone..."

Once more the reaction was more shock that mirth and Kitty stopped an incoming remark.

_Not yet, not yet_...

"Tsk, tsk, tsk, don't deny it! Your brother is always hovering and he does intrude in matters even Papa has never deemed himself free to intrude upon... The fact that my sister is occupying what's left of his brain is an opportunity we should not miss..."

She leaned forward and began to whisper. Nothing better to get one's attention.

"True love gives freedom, it does not try and restrict it. Do you really believe he has even the will to restrict Lizzie's freedom? She won't let him and he will accept it as natural because he wants to please her..."

She shook her head with vehemence.

"She will make him do whatever she wants and in this peculiar stage of inattention he could be the perfect prey for a young Lady determined to get a little more breathing space than she has had till now..."

She pointed –discreetly because a well raised Lady never pointed a finger toward somebody– toward the music room.

"You remember how he looked at you yesterday when you stood your ground? There was admiration in his eyes. Admiration for that new Georgiana who could stand up against him and who could show that she would not always retreat from a stern look from her perfect brother... The Georgiana who would no longer disappear into the floor when Big Brother would frown. He liked that Georgiana, dear, because she was what he always wanted her to be and never let her become because of his overprotection..."

She winked at Georgiana.

"I do believe he was even glad to see a Georgiana who would be able to stand her ground and that the shy, impressed and discreet Georgiana was no longer there."

She looked her friend directly into the eyes.

"So, what will it be? Which Georgiana will you choose to let develop? The lioness who has a will of her own or the mouse who hides at each stern look of her brother?"

That got her the first trace of a smile...

_Good, we're getting somewhere_!

She came nearer and whispered even more.

"And don't forget, men prefer lionesses and disdain gray mouses. Where do you believe stands Lizzie? Not with the little grayish creatures! She roars on her boulder and never looks down when a man tries to overpower her... And that's exactly why Fitzwilliam fell for her. Even Jane with all her properness and air to be the perfect Lady was never able to let herself be beaten down. She always stood her ground and see what _she_ got? And that's why they will fall for _you_ and not your big purse!"

Kitty laughed in the hope that Georgiana would follow.

But clearly, she was not yet ready.

"The trick is to find the best method to survive in this world molded by men for men but which is abandoned to the care of women. But what's even better is to begin to live and not only to survive..."

She stood up and pulled Georgiana out of her bed to the window.

They could see the staff buzzing in and out of the house in order to install everything for the coming Sunday.

"Who's planned and organized everything for the incoming wedding?"

Georgiana had no problem to answer.

"Mrs. Reynolds, Gardiner and Bennet?"

Kitty nodded.

"And what did the male part of the house contribute?"

She winked at Georgiana.

"The part of getting the bride out of everybody's way does not count..."

That got her a first smile.

_We're almost there. Good._..

"Only details, don't we agree? And it's the same in most domains of daily life. Men believe they decide and we women we make do..."

She took Georgiana and brought her back to the bed where she sat at her side.

"And there's the problem with Fitzwilliam. At a very young age he assumed the responsibility of your education and there was no woman to help him with his burden. And now he does not know that's it's time to cut the line. He still believes that he must decide everything but that's true only if you let him continue... Sunday will be the day where he becomes a husband. It could also be the day where he ceases to be a father to –_finally_– become a brother..."

She looked Georgiana directly in her eyes.

"Fitzwilliam has done a marvelous job, Georgie. He has given you everything to be a perfect lady and the most accomplished heiress I have ever seen. And frankly I'm jealous of all your social accomplishments. But there's one thing where Fitzwilliam could do nothing for you, and that's give you the background to be a woman... And for that, you'll have the ideal candidate directly at home with Lizzie. She will show you how to roar and she will not push you out of her life and house because she's a sister who has, all her life, been with four of us. She probably doesn't know it yet but she will do her utmost to have one or more of us here with her. And you, you will be just what she needs if it comes to Jane marrying that French d'Arcy."

Kitty made a face.

"So don't fear being tossed out, fear being imprisoned here for the rest of your life..."

She nodded more to herself than to Georgiana.

"As I see your problem, Fitzwilliam will never find one of your suitors agreeable or well-suited for you. He will always find faults and defects in them in order to protect you... And Lizzie being what she is, will be tempted to have you stay at her side to confide in..."

A big smile blossomed on her lips.

"But that's where we, old experienced sisters, have our role to play! We will be there to free you whenever there is need from too much attention from your brother and his wife."

She tapped Georgiana on the chest.

"And you'll see that we have plenty of experience in that sort of thing..."

She saw that Georgiana was no longer depressed. She was still upset but not depressed. And that was what had to be done first.

But that did not mean that the whole job was done.

"Let's be clear, Georgiana, what you really need is emancipation from you overprotective brother. He will not cease loving you because he is violently in love with Lizzie. He will just feel guilty for neglecting you and that guilt will push him into being even more intrusive in your life... And that's what we will have to fight!"

"How?"

Kitty sighed.

"We will need Lizzie's cooperation, dear. She will not only be your mentor but your advocate against your brother's overprotection. She has always been the most "savage" of all of us. The less social of us. She loves her freedom and I, for my part, would never have bet a shilling on her accepting to marry a man. But than, even one old experienced sister as I am, will –_rarely_– make unimportant mistakes in her predictions..."

That brought a real smile.

_Got you_!

"But as an excuse I must remind everybody that it took a man who was handsome and clever and wealthy and sufficiently in love to overcome a rather snappy first refusal! The chances that I could lose my bet were slim..."

This time she reached her goal and got a real laugh.

"What we need Elizabeth to understand is that you are in need of making your own choices. Not Fitzwilliam's and not hers. Yours!"

She pulled her friend toward the wardrobe.

"Come I'll give you a hand to get you dressed. We have a to speak to her immediately..."

* * *

**Next chapter: London Perspectives**


	51. London Perspectives

Where financial questions are asked and answered

* * *

**Chapter 51: London Perspectives**

* * *

**London, Cheapside, Friday the fourteenth August. Tenth day. **

* * *

Charles Bingley was not really happy.

He wasn't sure he would, one day, be happy again.

Because his happiness was bound to have a certain person at his side and his own foolishness had destroyed the one relationship he now knew was really important to him. The one he would his whole life regret not having sustained or nurtured or protected.

But then, not being happy, had brought him that irresistible necessity to do something with his time. Doing nothing would only had pushed him into madness. He had to find another purpose in life.

In fact, he knew now that he had always had a purpose in life and that he could have followed that purpose for quite a few years.

Now he knew and he would do what he was good at even if he had not, at his side, the only woman he had truly loved.

He sighed and took a sip of Gardiner's excellent Port wine.

He shook himself and went back to the meeting.

"Why should we accept?"

"What reason could you give not to accept," countered Charles who was taking great pleasure in these negotiations.

Speaking with a purpose in mind was far better than idle chat and gossip.

Here was he, Charles Bingley, and he had in front of him the twenty-four richest men in the British Empire. And it was he who set the pace.

It was exhilarating.

"Militarily," he went on, "We're defeated and soon the sharks will come from France to rip our economy apart. They have done it in Italy and in Austria. You can bet that they will try it here also."

He shook his head.

"Unless you resolve to join us."

He let his words, once more, ground themselves in their minds.

"d'Arcy..."

"Why should we trust this d'Arcy," asked one of them. "Why would it be different with him than with those others sharks."

"Because he brings money..."

"We don't know if that sum even exists..."

"If he wants one hundred thousand pounds, he has the whole southern part of England to pillage to get it," said Mr. Gardiner. "The fascinating thing is his willingness to become a share holder of said company. With him aligned with us, we have a real guarantee that this business runs no risk of being confiscated..."

"It could happen nevertheless..."

"Indeed, it could happen nevertheless, but without him and this joint stock company it _will _happen, no matter what we try. So we have a real possibility to be with the winners against a certainty to be with the losers. There's a real advantage there, isn't it?"

"Indeed," said Blackwell, a man who possessed more than thirty factories where workers were weaving night and day on looms in awful work conditions. But he had already accepted to put his factories into the common stock. He was just haggling on his shares' worth. "And they all know it. They have not the courage to accept what's unavoidable. I've done it, I've put all my factories in this joint venture because there's no more choice, gentlemen! If I don't do it, I'll loose them all. That's no longer the problem here. The problem is linked with remuneration! Since we will earn less for each share, we should have more shares..."

Charles looked at the brown haired fat man and smiled.

He ignored if he was manipulating the meeting to his own advantage on purpose but he was doing it in the best possible way. Perhaps he was just simply greedy.

"You just countered your own argument, Sir," said Charles. "As you pointed out, outside of the Company..." It was the name they used to refer to the monster they were about to create. "...Your factories are worth nothing. And for nothing I do believe that you'll get a more-than-handsome compensation..."

Blackwell could only groan.

"I bring 32 factories with more than a thousand looms and I will get only five—seven percent of the shares. While d'Arcy with only one hundred thousand pounds gets fifteen percent, where's the justice there?"

"Let's say we insure his protection by giving him a blocking minority. He insisted on that peculiar point. But we could give him less if we decide that the blocking minority is under fifteen percent."

Caldwell, a ship owner who owned shares in Canadian mines shook his head.

"Never. If the blocking minority is under fifteen percent we'll never get decisions made. I already said that for me twenty-five percent is the absolute minimum for such a thing. And I don't give a damn how many shares d'Arcy owns. He's an outsider he'll do as Gardiner advises him and, for me, that's enough to guarantee an intelligent management... And if he really can finance the Company with one hundred thousand pounds cash flow, it's worth even more."

He looked around him.

"Have you been at the bank of England today?" He looked at every one of his future partners.

"No? You should have! The block is cordoned by Horse Guards and chariots are being loaded with very heavy little trunks..."

A chorus of outcries swelled in the room.

"Yes, you guess right. They are moving the gold! Tomorrow this country's money will no longer have a gold backup. You know as I do what that means!"

They all agreed.

They knew.

It was the turning point of the negotiations.

* * *

"Well, that went well, Charles... We convinced them easily..."

"No real problem there, they wanted to be convinced. Between losing a little power and losing everything, the choice was simple."

"So what have we got?"

Charles looked at his new mentor.

"A very interesting situation, Sir. We could, if we accept all those who want to become stock holder, have more than half of England's economy under our sole control."

He shook his head.

"I'm unable to imagine how to do it. How can it be done?" he shook his head. "I mean nobody has ever ruled over so many factories, hangars and ships. We just do not have the manpower to manage such a mass..."

Mr. Gardiner came to his side and put his hand on his shoulder.

"Yes we have, and as I see it we have even too much manpower for each specialized task. We will have to put some people out of their current jobs and get them to learn something else. It's especially true for our accounting agents. We have way too many and we need to concentrate them at one location. We will have to select who stays with us at their old job and who will have to learn something new..."

"What about your accounting clerk. You said he was one of the best..."

"That's true and that's why I won't give him the job. I'll give him the job of executive accounting manager. He'll control all the accounting of all our new branches. His will be the responsibility to find out who's trying to cheat us... Because there will be those who will try. Just because they will believe we are unable to look everywhere..."

"But we are unable to look everywhere..;"

"Yet! But that will change and it will change soon..."

A smile erupted on his face.

"And meanwhile, we don't really need to look everywhere. We need to give the impression that we are able to look everywhere."

He took a book out of a bookcase.

"And that will help us to give that impression!"

Charles looked at the book and Mr. Gardiner handed it to him.

"That's the great secret your father learned me, Charles. That's the book of human weaknesses..."

Charles opened the book and he saw that it was a list. Sort of...

There were names, lots of names and behind each name there was a little paragraph describing the man.

He searched under Bingley. And found himself and his father.

Mr. Gardiner smiled at the immediate reflex.

"You should look under G and Gardiner. There you would learn a few things about me..."

Charles looked up.

"You're in there?"

"Indeed I am. I did it for your father and he did it for me. You must know your weaknesses in order to overcome them. No secret there. I have sent him a copy of my files on him till the end of his life. He did the same for me! In a certain sense we never really broke our relationship. We just decided to work on parallel tracks."

Charles didn't look under 'G' and he closed the book as if it had the power to bite him.

"Who's in there?"

"Everybody of importance in the world of business, Charles. Knowing certain things about certain persons gives you the opportunity never to make the mistake of underestimating a partner or working with a crook."

His smile came back.

"Or if you decide to work with a crook to take the necessary precautions..."

"And father had the same?"

"I'm sure of it... I don't know what happened to it but he did have it while we worked together and the files he would send me later about me or other persons proved that he continued with it... You should perhaps look in his library. We were very careful to give it a humble aspect! It exists probably somewhere on a shelf in your Town House. That's where I put mine."

Mr. Gardiner tapped on the book.

"And some of the people who are described in these pages now work for us, Charles and some of these will try to rob us as they robbed their old employers. It's in their natures. And next month we will find one, the month after two more and then most of the thieves will stop thieving for the time being. Giving us the time to build the necessary structure to have a real control over that mammoth of a company..."

"And meanwhile?"

"Meanwhile we do with what we've got, Charles. No choice there..."

* * *

A light knock at the door revealed Jonas' desire to enter.

"Come in Jonas," said Mr. Gardiner who was just standing up to go to the windows where an on-going clatter has raised his attention. "What's happening outside?"

"We have visitors, Sir.." said Jonas while coming in and bowing before a man in uniform.

A man in the Uniform of a French general.

The general bowed and handed his cape and hat to Jonas.

"General Duroc," said he in perfect English which had nothing to do with the few sentences he had uttered while with d'Arcy at the Palace. "I'm here to inform you that, beginning this very morning, London is now under the responsibility of the French Army. The English troops have retreated toward Scotland and are accompanying the English Royal Family to Glasgow. The Proconsul has asked me to provide you with this information and has advised me to ask for your advice." He smiled. "I'm here and I listen!"

* * *

An hour later general Duroc was gone as were the two dozen men who had escorted him.

"Do you believe he will listen?"

"I'm sure he'll do," answered Mr. Gardiner. "He was not here just to obey his boss. He was really wanting advice. And I do believe our advice was worthwhile."

"He'll have fewer problems with no troops in town than with troops. Hopefully their only presence at the town borders will insure security enough..."

Mr. Gardiner nodded. Duroc's looming presence at the suburbs of the town should be enough to maintain a degree of peace.

"But we will need more than peace, Charles, we will need to feed London and to feed London we will have to use most of our ships to get the supplies needed."

He let a smile creep on his lips.

"Our first real job, Charles. We will soon see if we are as good as we believe..."

"Let's hope that we are, Sir. If we are not, there will be nasty riots these next days..."

* * *

The rest of the day they gave orders and launched everything to get London supplied.

They were just at Mr. Gardiner's House to collect documents and to receive some of their new staff members when Jonas knocked at the door.

"Yes?"

He opened the door and looked at Mr. Gardiner.

"Sir we have an unexpected guest. The deputy Mayor wants to speak with you..."

He exchanged a glance with Charles. What now?

"Let him in, Jonas, I suppose he's as busy as we are and that time is of the essence here..."

A few seconds later, a harassed deputy mayor entered Mr. Gardiner's study.

He was rather young and was famous for doing the work while Sir John Eamer, the Lord Mayor, was courting His Highness the Prince Regent.

"Sorry to intrude, gentlemen, I'm sure you have plenty of work without me interrupting but I needed to meet you. Urgently..."

Mr. Gardiner and Charles both bowed.

The deputy was neither Gentry nor Aristocracy but he was the man who knew everything about London and its surroundings and as such was a man to be taken seriously.

"Where's Sir John?"

"With His Highness, en route to Glasgow!"

Charles and Mr. Gardiner exchanged glances.

They had heard the rumors but nothing official had yet been published.

"And you're not with them?" asked Charles.

He shook his head.

"My job's here, in London. I owe my time and my efforts to the people. Sir John's doing his job at His Highness' side."

He sighed.

"But as it is I need your help..."

"What for?"

"There are rumors that you are family with the French Expeditionary Corps' Leader..."

"Not yet," answered Mr. Gardiner. "But it will happen on Sunday..."

"Let's hope it's enough" said the young man just before looking his guest in the eyes. "Because as it is, we have a big problem. And we need his help to overcome it." He looked at his guest. "I really believe that he is our last chance."

He inhaled as if to give himself the courage to speak.

"It seems that the last vessels of His Majesty's Fleet that tried to leave London this very morning have been ambushed just outside the Thames' mouth. They were all sunk..."

Charles and Mr. Gardiner looked at each other.

It was bad news for the Navy but one more or one less, what importance did it have... That part of the campaign was lost for a very long time.

The deputy Lord Mayor looked at them with anguish in his eyes.

"I see you don't know what's really happened. Three of these twenty vessels were packed with the Gold of the Bank of England. The Empire's Gold is now at the bottom of the Channel out of reach of even the most greedy rascal in the world."

This news struck both businessmen like hammer. They just understood why d'Arcy had insisted on the use of Francs as the legal currency of the Company. Nothing to do with patriotism. He was just covering his investments. He knew all the time what was going to happen.

The deputy Mayor nodded for some time.

"Now you understand. As it seems there's no longer a gold counterpart available for the Pound Sterling. Our currency just lost its worth."

He sat without being invited to and that alone revealed his despair.

"I don't know what to do. I need advise and I need it sooner rather than later because if the people learn about that disaster, there will be riots we will be unable to suppress..."

Both gentlemen couldn't resist the urge to look at the boxes Duroc's men had brought only a few hours earlier. At that time they had looked at them with surprise and disbelief.

Why would d'Arcy want them to buy buildings suitable for the installation of a Bank and immediately afterwards to create a new Bank?

And what use for all these new fancy banknotes with English writings but French currency? They were sure that nobody would ever accept them in exchange for their good, solid and trusted English currency...

Now they were no longer so sure...

* * *

**Next chapter: Pemberley Pre Nuptials**


	52. Pemberley Prenuptials

A bride must know what will happen no matter what!

* * *

**Chapter 52: Pemberley Pre Nuptials**

* * *

**Derbyshire, Pemberley, Saturday the fifteenth August. Eleventh day. **

* * *

Elizabeth sighed.

She knew that what was going to happen would be a challenge.

Would she be able to be serious till the end?

She doubted it. It would be so weird.

But then it was tradition, wasn't it?

And not doing it would have been as if they would have confessed her "sin". And that was even more impossible.

A maiden she was and a maiden she would be till tomorrow evening...

Meanwhile she would have been a wife and after their first night together she would be a woman.

Today as was tradition, she _was_ a maiden!

And a maiden needed to be... Informed?

* * *

She sat up as her mother, her aunt and Mrs. Reynolds came in the room. They were -_was it on purpose?_- wearing gray and their faces were more than serious. Grave...

* * *

Well, here she was, the maiden facing her elders who would, finally, give away the advice she needed to be prepared for the wedding night.

She smothered a smile. She was sure that they had nothing to teach her. Her teacher had been Fitzwilliam and his teachings have been much more lively and adequate than all the words in the world.

And she could even already be pregnant...

She didn't know why but she had that gut feeling that there were more people present than Elizabeth Bennet, her mother, her aunt and Mrs. Reynolds.

But the tradition was the tradition and so, she was sitting before her three relatives with a face like butter wouldn't melt in her mouth.

A well placed mirror gave her confirmation that her air was quite perfect.

She was there showing a face between perfect innocence and bewildered surprise that was quite a master work.

She knew she was, once more, in debt to her sisters.

Jane, being the eldest had had the honor of discovering the technique but it had been Lydia who had perfected it. And now, looking at the mirror she was exactly as Lydia would have been in the same situation.

Open eyed, a little nervous smile on her lips and surprise showing with each of her movements.

Yes, indeed, she was perfect.

She had to smother the smile that was threatening to burst out of her face and take over her lips...

_Serious and shy... You must be serious and shy_...

She tried the little fluttering movement with the eyelashes that was Kitty's secret weapon.

She was amazed with the result.

Yes, it was really efficient. She really looked as if she was totally brain dead.

_Amazing, really amazing_...

Her mother shot her a dark glance.

"Elizabeth, stop it immediately. We know perfectly well that you're no longer the perfect innocent lamb you're portraying. And Kitty's eye fluttering is much too conspicuous..."

She placed her hand on her bosom and gave them a perfect interpretation of bewildered innocent surprise.

The whole thing was beginning to be fun.

That got her an irate glance from her aunt.

_Act two: time to be penitent! Eyes down, now_...

"Elizabeth, please, we're not here to give you the opportunity to show us all your marvelous talents at pretending. We're here to..." She hesitated and Elizabeth immediately filled in the gap.

She looked up and frowned.

That peculiar frown was Mary's. It was natural with her but Lydia had soon mastered it and it was always handy to convey curiosity and surprise.

"To?"

Her aunt and her mother looked at each other and a knowing glance was silently exchanged. After a few seconds her mother nodded and leaned forward.

"Dear, we're here, as the eldest married woman of the family in order to give you..." She hesitated. "To tell you what you'll have to face tomorrow night..."

Elizabeth couldn't help but utter a rather convincing "Oooh?" that granted her three angry frowns.

_Back to act 2. Eyes down_...

That one came directly from Lydia. Always look down and contrite and you'll never get really punished.

It must have been true because she couldn't remember Lydia being really punished.

And if she was honest she couldn't remember any of the Bennet daughters having been really punished.

Nothing more cruel than an afternoon bedroom arrest... Ever...

She felt herself overwhelmed by an odd feeling of gratitude.

Yes, her life has been a happy life. Never ever had she or her sisters lacked anything.

Yes, those twenty-two last years had been full of love and care and joy. She felt a tear running down her cheek... She would miss them all. She would miss her mama's hysterics and her papa's mocking remarks.

She felt that nothing would ever be the same but she also knew that her past happiness nobody could ever take away from her.

She heard Fitzwilliam's name and forced herself to listen to what her mother was saying.

"...You have not been the most serious betrothed that we would have wished..."

_Time to look up_.

"...And so, we have no idea of what you still need to know!"

She smiled at her mother and for the first time in years she felt herself happy to be in the same room as her mother. They looked each other in the eyes and both knew without words that they were just satisfied to be in each other's company.

As for what she still needed to know...

Not much probably.

And that was not only because of Fitzwilliam but also because Jane had always had that fascination for pregnancy and birth.

So, of course discreetly, Jane had spent a lot of time with old Mrs. Wilkins, Meryton's midwife. She had even assisted her with some births outside of the Meryton area where nobody knew that the midwife's aide was Mr. Bennet's eldest daughter.

And so Jane had learned quite a lot about the female body and contrary to their mother who never spoke a word about _that_, she had told them everything...

"There are things a girl must know," she had said. "Unseemly and untoward have no say in this matter. You must know what awaits you and you must know it as soon as possible."

Her first pupil had been Lizzie –_immediately after she had learned it_-- and then just after their first bleeding she had taught everything to the other Bennet girls. And her mother never suspected anything.

So it was very clear to Elizabeth that her mother would learn her nothing this morning.

And it was also clear that, if she was not too far away, she would send her daughters to aunt Jane to get all the knowledge they needed to become confident mothers.

She could probably have done it herself but she had been very happy to get this information from Jane. She knew that it would have been difficult, even at the age of fourteen, to accept that her parents were normal people with normal behaviors.

With luck she would be able to save, for Fitzwilliam and herself, that little aura of infallibility parents have, even a little longer than for herself.

No, it would be Jane who would teach them and it would be for the best.

She would do it for her nieces.

But, as for the moment, that was not what was important, what was important was the link she felt between her and her mother. The link that was their common heritage.

It was now her turn to create a family, to give birth and to raise children. Being here with her and Aunt Gardiner and Mrs. Reynolds was more than a teaching moment, more than a tradition.

It was her acceptance in that very mysterious group of people who had the most sublime duty of all, that of giving birth...

And if it had to be wrapped in a silly meeting to be done, so be it.

She let a smile adorn her lips.

But it was a smile full of pride and joy and love for those women who were doing her the favor of accepting her into their midst.

There was a silence and within that silence she was sure that everybody in the room had grasped what had just happened.

Now they could go back to the show and to the tradition.

* * *

It was aunt Gardiner's turn to ask.

"Have you?" she hesitated and looked at her sister. "Has he?"

Since it was show time, Elizabeth looked at them with surprised eyes and fluttering eyelashes.

She quite liked the lack of understanding her face showed.

It was even almost believable.

If one forgot to look at her shining eyes.

Mrs. Reynolds was the next coming into the fray.

"No traces having been found we can probably believe than nothing definite happened..."

That remark brought a little blush on Elizabeth's cheeks.

It could be accepted as the result of having understood a little too much of what had just been alluded.

But Mrs. Reynolds would not be so easily convinced. She decided to ask a direct question.

"Fitzwilliam did join you in your bedroom, didn't he?"

_Here the show is ending, _decided Elizabeth_. They took me in and they deserve the truth_.

"He did..."

They looked at each other.

"Was it the reason you went to see the reverend?" asked Mrs. Reynolds.

"Of course not," answered she. "He never touched me at..."

She stopped when she saw their faces light up.

She was even sure to hear them sigh in relief.

They were really relieved and she would not destroy their visible joy by ending her sentence.

She had not lied and they were sure that nothing definite had happened.

Best to let it be where it was.

* * *

So they spoke with her about what would happen that infamous night.

And what was revealed was that there was no absolute truth in that delicate matter. Each person experienced it differently and it was no surprise to Elizabeth that it was Aunt Gardiner who was the most positive of them.

For her mother it was a difficult passage giving access to a new world of pleasure and for Mrs. Reynolds it was nothing more than a way to beget children.

The meeting soon came to an end and Elizabeth could only smile at what could have happened if she had confessed her night in the grove.

Was it because of the grove or because of Fitzwilliam?

She wouldn't know but it was evident that neither of them had witnessed the bliss and ecstasy she and Fitzwilliam had lived through during that precious night.

She decided it must have been Fitzwilliam even if the following nights had never reached the same heights.

* * *

"How was it?"

He had been waiting and as soon as she was alone he was at her side.

Ten seconds later they were in each other's arms.

"Funny," answered she. "They never really dared the direct questions."

"But they knew..."

It was no question but she answered it nevertheless.

"Of course they knew, Fitzwilliam. The whole household knows. But they don't know everything. They still have their illusions and I did not destroy them."

He sighed.

"I know it's not gentlemanly but I regret nothing."

"Neither do I," whispered she. She leaned back to look into his eyes.

"One day left, Fitzwilliam. One day and tomorrow we will be married."

He smiled and brought her back into the embrace of his arms.

"Indeed, my love. Tomorrow you'll be Mrs. Darcy."

She chuckled.

"And whose bedchamber will we use as husband and wife?"

"Which one would you choose?"

She glanced at him.

"We could try it in your bed, couldn't we?"

"Of course we could, but why? Your bed is much better suited than mine. I bought it for exactly that reason..."

She nodded her approval.

"I don't doubt it, dear, but there's one point on which your bed is superior to mine."

He glanced suspiciously at her.

"Which one?"

"If we do it here we will be able, without lying, to pretend that we just went through a complete new experience..."

He nodded and they both laughed heartily.

"You have a point there, you have a point there..."

* * *

**Next chapter: Pemberley Tigers**


	53. Pemberley Tigers

When Darcy encounters d'Arcy!

* * *

**Chapter 53: Pemberley Tiger Dance**

* * *

**Derbyshire, Pemberley, Saturday the fifteenth August. Eleventh day. **

* * *

"You're not welcome here..."

D'Arcy looked up toward the door and smiled at his cousin.

"Glad to see you too. Been a long time since we last met."

His remark brought not the slightest smile to Fitzwilliam's face.

He stood there straight as a post and clearly unsatisfied with what he was seeing.

"You're the enemy; it would be my duty to capture you and to hand you over to the legal authorities."

D'arcy's smile grew even larger.

"Don't hesitate... Come and get me. As you see, I'm unarmed, you should have no difficulties grabbing me..."

He held out his hands.

"Come on, I'm here and there's only you and me... Why are you hesitating?"

Fitzwilliam shook his head.

"You're family. I don't like you and I don't like what you represent but I won't be the first Darcy to betray another Darcy even if it's a French d'Arcy."

"My, my, what a half hearted statement. You could be a little more enthusiastic, couldn't you. After all I'm the most famous d'Arcy of all times, am I not? I just took all of Great Britain and forced my rule over the whole island..."

Fitzwilliam shook his head.

"No, you have not! I will not surrender just because you're my cousin. I'm still the master of Pemberley and Pemberley won't fall into your hands without a fight..."

D'Arcy stood up and took a scroll out of his jacket.

"Too late, cousin! Please have a look..."

Fitzwilliam walked nearer and took the scroll his cousin was handing him.

He unrolled it and began to read.

D'Arcy saw his cousin follow the lines of the Treaty and he could see the color fleeing his cheeks.

"That damn fool of a German walrus! He just abandoned us! He had no right..."

"He had no choice," said d'Arcy. "I had all the cards in my hand. The only thing he could save I let him save. He's retreating with his followers and what's left of his army to Glasgow, there to run even farther away..."

He smiled at his cousin.

"I overtook his circus this morning... If you want to toss him a few rotten cabbages when he passes near Pemberley I can lend you a few men and enough rotten fruit to smother him with..."

Fitzwilliam was just shaking his head. He couldn't believe it. This Treaty gave effectively all of Great Britain to d'Arcy. The war was over and they were defeated...

He looked at his cousin.

"So you're the new ruler over this island, are you..."

D'Arcy nodded.

"That's quite right and if you want to hand me over to the legal authorities do not hesitate any longer, I'll take myself into custody with pleasure!"

Fitzwilliam faced his cousin and they were both only a few inches from each other.

"That my King has cowardly ceased to fight you gives me no obligation to join him in his felony. I could still fight you. I should still fight you."

He pointed toward the window.

"We could see on Pemberley's lawn who is the best swordsman between us..."

"Indeed we could!"

They both were trying to burn their will into the other when a joyous voice snapped them out of their little confrontation.

"I see you have already met, I'm very glad to see how happy you are to know that if today you're only cousins, in the very near future you'll be brothers!" Mr. Bennet remarked.

* * *

_They could not have been further from each other and still occupy the same room._

And they were looking at each other as would tomcats following the same trail.

He was sure that, would he exit the study, they would fall at each others throats.

"You are unreasonable, gentlemen. There's a time for war and then there's a time for peace and..." he showed them the roll with the Treaty he had just studied, "...it seems that the second invasion of Great Britain by a Darcy has only lasted two weeks before the defenders called for peace..."

He smiled at d'Arcy.

"Quite an achievement, monsieur d'Arcy. I'm very proud of your soon being part of our family..."

He then looked at Fitzwilliam.

"There's nothing more to do, son. His Majesty signed that Treaty. Great Britain has just passed under French rule. It's a fact and it's a legally endorsed fact. You can only accept the reality even if you find it difficult to stomach..."

Darcy answered by an ominous grumble.

Edward Bennet sighed. He had hundreds of miles behind him and the only thing he wanted to do was to go to bed and sleep to the morning.

And here he was trying to sooth his future sons-in-law into not killing each other.

"Well, I do believe that you are both gentlemen and so I'm going to ask you to give me your word to be peaceful one with the other at least until you're both married with my daughters. There after I'll hand that hot iron to them and I'm sure that they will find lots of things to occupy your time in more interesting manners than duelling..."

He looked from one to the other.

D'Arcy was the first to bow.

"I never intended t..."

Mr. Bennet immediately stopped him.

"I have really no interest in who began this stupid quarrel, monsieur d'Arcy. What I want is to see it stop and stop right now. My daughters having decided that they loved strong-willed proud and touchy gentlemen, I can do nothing but accept their choice. But I won't accept that those strong-willed, proud and prickly or sensitive or temperamental gentlemen start their own little war against each other each time I am not watching them. So, gentlemen, I'm waiting..."  
There was a silence... A rather long silence and then Fitzwilliam took a long breath.

"Alright," said he finally. "You have my word that I won't...that I won't try anything against my cousin..."

"You couldn't..." hissed d'Arcy but was stopped by the fiery gaze of his future father-in-law.

"He's a guest under my roof and I will uphold the old laws of hospitably and blood links..."

"Neither will I," said d'Arcy after a few more seconds. "It's also my duty to uphold the sacred laws of hospitality and blood kin while he is guest in my house..."

"Your house?" shouted Fitzwilliam.  
D'arcy shot him a dark and triumphant glance.

"Indeed my house, cousin! Now that Great Britain is French territory, it's the French legislation that rules the Land and in the light of _that _legislation everything that belongs to a Darcy belongs to me!"

They rushed toward each other and had Mr. Bennet not been fast enough to be standing between them they would probably have exchanged more than dark looks.

"Stop it! You just gave your word! Is an oath uttered by a Darcy worth nothing?"

That stopped them.

"I'm sure monsieur d'Arcy can explain why he took the precaution to call himself the owner of all Darcy properties. And I'm sure stealing it from his cousins were not part of his motivations..."

D'Arcy and Darcy exchanged another dirty look before pacing back.

"It was the only way to protect the family estates from Napoleon's greed. Since they are mine he will never be able to expropriate them without a just and legal compensation. And since what he wants is getting as much as possible for as little as possible it was an excellent way to ensure that he would look somewhere else..."

Mr. Bennet was quite willing to put what could have developed into a family feud behind him but after all these strong-willed, proud and tempermental gentlemen were about to become his sons and he had no real choice but to go on playing the middleman.

"So it's only a legal arrangement and you have no intent to disown your cousin?"

D'Arcy shot him an angry look.

"Of course not, I'm no thief and I alone own more land in France that all my cousins together in England..."

Of course he would add that last little sting!

God, how he would have loved to be father-in-law to a pair of gentle Mr. Bingleys...

He stopped an angry retort from Fitzwilliam Darcy.

"And you have no intention to use your cousin's property at all..."

There was a silence and both Mr. Bennet and Fitzwilliam Darcy looked suspiciously at d'Arcy.

"Well," insisted Mr. Bennet. "You do not have such an intent, do you?"

For the first time d'Arcy looked disgruntled.

"There's something," said he finally. "I have issued invitations to a few people. And since Pemberley is a family estate and geographically well placed it seemed a good choice to organize that little meeting there..."

"You organized your meetings in my house?" attacked Fitzwilliam.

"Legally it's mine!" shot back d'Arcy.

"Stop it immediately," shouted Mr. Bennet.

They both stopped.

"Could you give us some information about said meeting?"

"It's no bus..."

D'Arcy froze under Mr. Bennet's glare.

A few more seconds passed and the tension grew visibly.

But then d'Arcy sighed and finally nodded.

"Fine, I'll give you a few details..."

"How wonderful," mocked Fitzwilliam, "we are going to g..."

Mr. Bennet just looked at him and he immediately stopped talking.

A few seconds passed while Edward Bennet tapped lightly with his fingers on a nearby table. When he was sure that everybody had gotten the message he smiled and waved toward d'Arcy.

"Well, then monsieur d'Arcy, we are _all _listening!"

* * *

They had spend long minutes in each others arms, crying and laughing and hugging...

Then they had spoken of everything which was important but neutral.

And finally they came to the really interesting matters.

Jane, being the eldest, won the right to launch the first salvo.

"There are rumors," said she, "far down in London saying that your Fitzwilliam Darcy was not as gentlemanly as one could hope from a member of the Gentry..."

Elizabeth immediately launched a counter attack.

"There are rumors going around that your d'Arcy has been within the Royal Palace on a night when you were there... And some ugly gossip even implied that he saw not only the Prince Regent..."

Jane assumed her innocent and surprised maiden look.

"Ugly, petty and gossipy twaddle!"

Elizabeth just looked at her and smiled at her sister with sparkles in her gleaming eyes.

"I couldn't have said it better..."

They both burst out laughing.

"And now the truth," insisted Elizabeth.

"What truth?" answered Jane mimicking lack of understanding.

"The whole truth," said Elizabeth. "I won't accept less!"

"And if there's nothing more to say than what I already told you?"

"There's more, Jane. A lot more! Just looking into your eyes I see secrets lurking that only want to be shared with your little sister..."

"You see my secrets in my eyes?"

"Not only in your eyes, Jane. They are everywhere. In the flush of your cheeks, in the happy smile on your lips, in the way you flutter your eyelashes..."

She hugged her sister again.

"And it's so much easier to see them since I see these exact symptoms each time I look into my mirror..."

They couldn't help but giggle.

"Well," said Jane, "it could indeed be that there are one or two secrets..."

"Then, let's trade secrets," whispered Elizabeth.

They laughed a lot that evening...

"It's unacceptable..." groaned Fitzwilliam Darcy. "I won't be accomplice to such a..."

"It's brilliant," said Mr. Bennet interrupting the lengthy denunciation which he sensed coming. "Wouldn't you accept monsieur d'Arcy's offer were you at their place?"

"Of course not!" said Fitzwilliam. "They'll stay with us, fight with us and drive the French out of our land at our side..."

Mr. Bennet looked at his future son-in-law with a very unbelieving look on his face.

"Be frank, please and don't let your feelings for the author of said plan stand in your way. Would you not accept that proposition if it came your way? Moreover, wouldn't you be happy to accept it?"

Fitzwilliam forced himself to stay calm.

He couldn't believe it. This... This... He could find no word to define him.

This cousin of his really believed that he could rip Great Britain apart and that its inhabitants would help him to do it?

He was utterly crazy...

They would fight, they would resist, they would stand up against him and...

But lying under his anger and indignation there was still a little ugly cowardly part who knew the truth.

And that part of him soon made it clear that, to protect Elizabeth and Georgiana, to give his retainers a chance to escape the French rule, he would accept.

Of course, he would accept.

And to the gutter with a Crown Prince who just ran away!

"Perhaps..." ended he admitting. "There are arguments to accept that propositions. But..."

"No buts, Fitzwilliam," said Mr. Bennet in a low voice. "Really, there's no but. Even the conditions are easily acceptable. More so after our Royal Family's shameful escape. The Scots and the Welsh will come and they will accept to recreate their former Kingdoms. What's their choice? Being free in a Kingdom some of them lusted for for centuries or becoming a French _département_? Be serious man! No need to be a wizard or a soothsayer to know how _that _will end!"

He shook his head and looked at his _other_ future son-in-law.

There was a mind there. A mind that planned months in advance. Perhaps even years in advance. A mind who had, till now, shown no weakness.

It seemed that his only weakness was upstairs probably gossiping like mad with her sister.

He smiled discreetly at the world.

He had never been a very faithful man. Being a soldier and fighting in a civil war had done that to him.

His faith had crumbled and that day when he was holding his dead son in his hands it had truly disappeared.

Soon he had formed the conviction that God perhaps existed, but that one thing was sure: he wasn't looking at what was happening on earth.

Or then only those days when he was really depressed and in want of a good laugh.

But, perhaps, he was wrong.

What would have happened to his land, to his country, to his people if that peculiar August day that man had _not_ seen his daughter?

Yes, perhaps he had been wrong. Perhaps God was not only unconcerned but, from time to time, actively helping mankind...

He shrugged.

"Well, I suppose you'll organize that meeting with or without Fitzwilliam's agreement, will you not?"

D'Arcy looked up and, for the first time, he showed tiredness.

"I would have preferred doing it with his agreement but I won't let him stop me..."

Fitzwilliam was immediately up and wary.

"I could try..."

Mr. Bennet looked at the heaven and shook his head.

"Gentlemen, my eldest daughters are currently gossiping like mad in the green study. I propose that you go get your weapons and that you settle your little disagreement on the lawn just in front of them. I'm sure they will be very happy to know that one of them will be the lucky wife of a four year old boy who hides in the body of a grown man..."

He sighed.

"I'm a tired old man and tomorrow one of my daughters marries the man she loves, please grant me a wish and go get some sleep before making any more mistakes..."

He looked at them and at their sunken miens he knew that his little exaggeration about their mental age had triggered the right guilt feeling.

He sighed happily. They would not kill each other this evening.

And tomorrow would be another day.

* * *

**Next chapter: Pemberley Night Stalker**


	54. Pemberley Night Stalker

Where d'Arcy gets his answer!

* * *

**Chapter 54: Pemberley Night Stalker**

* * *

**Derbyshire, Pemberley, Saturday the fifteenth August. Eleventh day. **

* * *

"Is everything ready for tomorrow?"

"Yes," answered Kervadec. "I went myself to announce the changes..."

D'Arcy nodded and smiled at his sergeant.

"Tomorrow could be a great day... We'll know soon!"

"I'm sure it will, Sir, I'm sure it will..."

* * *

He went to the room Mrs. Reynolds had assigned him. Clearly she had a much better understanding of what was good for Pemberley than her Master. The room was spacious and had a bathroom where two menservants were waiting with hot water...

"Only these two," said d'Arcy pointing at their hot water containers. "Warm will be enough, I have no desire to let sleep catch me while bathing..."

He was tired. It had been years since he was as tired as today. But he would not sleep. Not yet.

He would bathe and then he would join her.

If she was not yet asleep they would speak. If she was sleeping, he would sleep at her side. Tomorrow morning would be soon enough.

* * *

Washed, shaved and perfumed he slipped into the corridor and found his way to her room.

As was the tradition for an innocent maiden in a safe house her door was not locked.

He opened it and sneaked in.

He immediately heard that she was sleeping.

He sighed.

But it was probably for the best. He needed sleep and he was reluctant to awake her. She had, like himself, a long journey behind her and she would be more amenable if rested.

And it gave him a little more time to cherish his dream.

It could very well be that tomorrow morning the answer he got would not be what he wished.

* * *

Jane purred her satisfaction.

She had just had the most satisfactory dream.

And even in that delicious moment between dream and awakening, that dream went on. She could still feel his fragrance, feel his skin under her cheek and the reassuring rumble of his heart.

She sighed and let her finger glide over the warm surface of her pillow.

In her dream it had the softness of a skin and smoothness of the softest of silk...

She smiled and pulled it against her.

Nothing happened.

She tried again...

There was a soft grumble coming from her pillow.

Her smile increased when she felt a finger crawl on her shoulder.

It journeyed to her breast and stole itself to her nipple that revealed itself as traitorous as always...

"I don't know if you do it on purpose but it seems to me that it has become your habit to invade my dreams..."

She felt him move and his lips joined hers.

"Your dreams, _mon amour, _are the most important thing in the universe_._ I'm afraid it's only there that you'll give me the place I covet..."

She moved and his arm was there to let her nestle her head.

"Why are you afraid? Do you really believe I'm not already yours?"

She felt his smile.

"I proposed and I insisted that you think about all the consequences of your acceptance. I'm only too aware that there are more reasons to run away from me than there are to join me..."

She looked at him.

"Do I discern doubt there?"

He sighed.

"Who would not doubt? But there's also hope, hope that you have decided to let my dream become true..."

There he paused.

"And that hope is a real marvel. It speaks of a common life, of shared pleasures and of duress better endured together... It speaks of love and trust and confidence..."

She looked at him and in the dawning of the rising sun she saw that his eyes were shut while he was speaking.

She raised herself to him and kissed him.

"Can I consider, Sir, that your offer still stands?"

He nodded but did not open his eyes.

"I'm here at your side, am I not? I've galloped from London to Pemberley in less than twenty hours only to be at your side this very morning! In that there can no more be a doubt that I was serious and that my proposal stands..."

She came again and kissed him.

He let her and at the exact moment she tried to distance herself he began to kiss her and his hands began to wander her body.

Her hands did the same to him and soon they were lost in a world where only love and pleasure have their place.

They spent an eternity in their little bubble when he realized that his hands were roaming under her nightgown and that they were reaching places where he had promised not to roam...

He stopped immediately.

He would not spoil that marvelous moment with lust and weak will...

Gently he pulled away...

"I beg you pardon, I let myself be overwhelmed..."

She looked at him with sparkling eyes and a mischievous smile.

"What have I to forgive what you did not already do in London? And if I remember well, I did not see fit to protest loudly..."

He pulled her to him and whispered in her ear.

"You are too good to me, _mon amour_, but we must be serious because I'm here for a very important reason..."

She laughed.

"Yes I agree. The wedding between Elizabeth and your cousin is probably the most important event in both our lives..."

He raised himself and embraced her fiercely.

"I'm here to ask you to share my life, Jane Bennet. And today I'm here to hear your answer. But as I already warned you, be very careful with said answer. Very careful..."

She sat astride him and looked him straight in the eyes.

"I am a careful girl monsieur d'Arcy. I have listened to your warnings and to your insistent affirmations that you are not the man who would be best for me..." She sighed. "I have listened and I have thought. And I have looked at your many defects, faults and disadvantages and keeping them in mind I have looked around me to see if there are men I consider better suited for me..."

She made a face.

"I must confess that my research has been fruitless. I saw many men but none was without faults and no one has been honest enough to warn me that a life with him could be, some days, difficult and strenuous."  
She shook her head.

"I saw their defects but they never acknowledged them and never did they believe they could hinder my decision to be their wife." She shrugged her shoulders. "And so I came to the conclusion that all men have faults but that you are the only one who has been honest enough to warn me about them..."

Her smile came back.

"And that, monsieur d'Arcy is a quality I do appreciate and value... If you add to that quality a few others and let me consider that you're handsome, rich, famous and in love with me, the overall result is more than positive."

He smiled back.

"Is this a yes?"

She nodded and shook her head at the same time.

"It could be a yes but there are a few points I want to rule out of our life before." She patted him on the chest. "If you survive the next minutes..."

She bent down until she was only a few inches from his face.

"Let's speak about Miss O'Sullivan, _monsieur _d'Arcy... There are a few details of her relationship with _us_ that need to be clarified. Urgently..."

* * *

Some time later he awoke.

He was sure the smile on his face had never disappeared even during that little bout of sleep he just had. She was there, her head on his shoulder and he could feel that she was smiling too.

He tried to massage his shoulder but he stopped since it would have disturbed her.

It did hurt! She had bitten him rather viciously everywhere she could reach with her teeth.

And since he was in no mood to strike back to calm her he just tried and wiggled to get out of her reach.

Mostly he succeeded but not every time...

But even his hurting shoulder could not smother his elation.

She was jealous! And really furious at his last attempt to disgust her.

She was jealous and she had shown that she would not accept being manipulated.

He had already known that she was a spirited little woman but the way she had shown him her displeasure had been the most pleasant thrashing of his life.

Because it showed that she cared, that she had been hurt by him.

He sighed and lightly kissed her hair.

She was jealous... What a marvelous feeling.

He loved it since he had become as jealous of her as she was of him...

He kissed her again and that time he had the desired result.

She moved and looked up at him.

"It will need more than a few kisses to be forgiven _monsieur_ d'Arcy."

"Ask and I'll do each and every one of your biddings..."

She purred her approval.

"Now that's an adequate answer, _monsieur_ d'Arcy! I'll think of some quests difficult enough to atone for your awful crime..."

"As long as it does not imply my leaving you alone, I'll do them all..."

She was stroking his chest and inhaling his manly scent.

"There is a quest..." whispered she. "But it is a difficult one. The most difficult of all for such as you!"

He let his fingers play with her luscious hair and smiled.

She could ask him for the moon. He knew he would get it for her.

"Tell me..."

"I want you to treat me as an equal, monsieur d'Arcy."

She looked him in the eyes and since he did not react she went on.

"I don't want to be treated as if I were an adornment to be shown at parties and ceremonies. I want to have a say on whatever you decide which is not political or military. And, finally I want you to never _ever_ decide for me again..."

She stopped and her eyes were not pleading but defying him.

He inhaled deeply.

He had not seen that one coming.

Who would have believed that lovely beautiful shy Miss Bennet was a fighter for rights of women?

_He_ should have! He had seen her stand her ground before those ruffians with only a stick and her courage.

He looked at her and she never glanced away.

He sighed.

"Will you bite me again if I say no?"

His attempt at humor fell flat. She said nothing and just waited.

After a few strained moments he spoke again.

"It was never my intention to tame you Miss Bennet! I fell in love with a beautiful warrior angel not an endearing dull doll. I knew I would not be able to control you or to command you the way other men do with their wives. I always knew that you would be a partner and not an obedient glorified slave. And so I will accept your Quest, Miss Bennet, with one exception!"

She said nothing and let him end his speech.

"When it comes to your security or to those of the children I hope we will produce together, I shall and will not hesitate to make decisions to protect you even if I know that you will not like them. And that means also that I will not always ask you if you agree with what I am going to impose on you regarding those matters... Prepare yourself to be often angry with me but then I hope that you will still be alive enough to be able to try and bite me into subservience!"

His eyes were as fierce as it was possible to be while looking lovingly at her.

She thought about it for a few minutes and then nodded.

She knew he would extend the range of her security to a level she would not like but then it would always be better than what every other woman in that Kingdom would get.

Her daughters or granddaughters would, perhaps, one day, have what she dreamed of. But he had granted her more than she would have dreamed of a few weeks earlier...

"We have a deal, Geoffrey," whispered she. "Are you still interested in my hand?"

"More than ever..."

They stretched and kissed and kissed and kissed...

They would probably have trespassed a few social boundaries had not someone violently opened her door to enter her bedroom!

* * *

Never ever had Elizabeth been so furious.

She had just barged into d'Arcy's bedchamber and finding him not there and the bed unused had rushed to her sister's bedroom where, she was sure she would find that traitorous and slimy rascal.

She burst into Jane's bedchamber and before anyone could react she was astride both and trying to pummel d'Arcy while not hurting her sister.

"You abject piece of slimy garbage," she puntuated each hit to d'Arcy's person. "You won't succeed in your little revenge! I'm going to kill you right now..."

Jane, as soon as she recovered from the shock of Elizabeth's outburst, took hold of her sister and tried to push her away from her future husband...

She succeeded in bringing her out of range of d'Arcy.

"Lizzie!" shouted she. "What happened? Why are you so upset?"

Lizzie stopped wriggling and looked at her sister.

"I'm not upset, I'm mad!" She pointed toward d'Arcy.

"And it's all his fault!"

"What happened," shouted Jane while holding her sister. "What did he do?"

Elizabeth looked at her sister with tears in her eyes.

"He postponed my marriage and had the reverend arrested! Darcy's sure he did it just to upset him because they fought last night!"

Both sisters turned to look at d'Arcy who made no effort to flee one's wrath and the other's pained surprise.

"Did you postpone her wedding?" asked Jane in a hollow voice.

D'arcy put his hand under his pillow and took out a letter.

"Indeed, I did, but before flogging me, please take a look at this little document..."

Jane, pale and discomfited took the letter and opened it.

He saw her eyes follow the lines and he was quite satisfied to see the whiteness disappear to be replaced by a blush and a smile.

She handed the letter to Elizabeth who read it hastily.

"I knew I would be too tired to be an acceptable bridegroom at ten o'clock in the morning. So I decided that I would marry Jane at 2 o'clock in the afternoon."

He looked at the sisters.

"'And since at her fourteenth birthday _my_ Jane had to swear to her little sister that they would marry together at the same time, I did what I had to do to give her the opportunity to be true to her word."

He smiled.

"From now on, it's a family tradition, we always do what we promise..."

Jane was on him kissing him the next second.

"I love you," whispered she. "I believe I have a dress which could be adapted..."

He shook his head.

"No need! There's a second wedding dress downstairs in the fitting room. It's yours..."

Elizabeth had just finish her second reread.

She was a little nonplussed and was gnawing her lips.

As soon as Jane jumped up from him to grab her hand and pull her toward the door, she looked at d'Arcy.

"I must apologize, monsieur d'Arcy. I suspected you of..."

"Don't fret about it, you couldn't know and I must confess that had I not had a better reason to postpone the wedding, upsetting your bridegroom would have been quite a satisfying prospect..."

He smiled at her.

"And really, I cannot understand what a spirited beautiful young lady like you can find in such a boring stiff prick as him..."

Jane looked at him wide eyed and shocked.

"Geoffrey!"

"But," continued he with a mirthful smile, "luckily there's another solution! You still have the chance to trade him for a handsome French aristocrat who would happily marry you at the same time as your sister..."

He was stopped by his own boot crashing just over his head on the bed.

He jumped to the side to avoid the next one and when he emerged again he saw them exiting Jane's bedroom.

He looked after the giggling sisters escaping from his lustful gaze.

God, the brunette Bennet sisters were indeed as lively and spirited as the blond ones. And little Lizzie would be a beautiful bride...

"Think of it, ladies," said he to the empty room. "It would be an excellent solution. You would be together..."

* * *

**Next chapter: Pemberley Fittings  
**


	55. Pemberley Fittings

The final countdown!

* * *

**Chapter 55: Pemberley Fittings**

* * *

**Derbyshire, Pemberley, Sunday the sixteenth August. Twelfth day. **

* * *

The next encounter was much less pleasant.

Fitzwilliam Darcy was standing in the corridor just in front of Jane's bedroom.

_Thank Heaven_, thought d'Arcy, _I'm completely dressed and perfectly groomed._

He smiled at his cousin and bowed.

"Cousin, nice to see you. You wouldn't have seen Miss Bennet? I'm desperately searching for her. We have so much to decide for our wedding..."

Fitzwilliam shot him a scornful glance and his lips twitched in a forced smile.

"In your despair you've probably moved the furniture in there. I've been waiting here a while..."

"I did what I had to do, cousin. Not all members of our family can afford to be careless..."

Fitzwilliam's eyes darkened even more.

"What are you hinting at, pray?"

D'Arcy forced himself to relax. If that arrogant prick went on in that same tone, the only way to have a double wedding would be for Elizabeth to marry him...

"Am I hinting at something? I don't think so. I'm uttering tr..."

"Haaa!" came a forceful and joyous voice from their side. "Both my sons, dressed, groomed and ready! What a happy coincidence, I was looking for you..."

They both turned toward Mr. Bennet and bowed.

He bowed –_sort of–_ back and came between them.

"Jane just told me the marvelous surprise you managed, monsieur d'Arcy. My two eldest are both quite excited and never ever did I see them as happy as this morning. I'm even inclined to forgive you for your unsatisfactory habit to of making decisions without conferring with your elders..."

He smiled at d'Arcy and tapped him on the chest.

"That will have to change, _monsieur mon fils (1_), especially in family matters! You wouldn't imagine Lizzie's despair this very morning when she believed that you postponed her marriage for just the petty reason of brotherly competition..."

He flashed a smile at Fitzwilliam.  
"I even do believe that Fitzwilliam was, for a short moment, persuaded that you did it only to make him mad at you..."

He looked back at d'Arcy.

"Which, as we know now, has _never_ been the case. It was a little confusing but one must admit that you have that very uncommon gift of managing astounding surprises, my son... A real gift, there..."

He grabbed both his sons by their arms and pulled them toward the staircase.

"It was really one of their greatest wishes to be married the same day, monsieur d'Arcy. I don't know how you got that very private information but I must say that it will be, for years to come, one of the best surprises ever managed." He shot him a reproachful look. "Had you just taken into account that we old people love to be able to prepare ourselves in time..."

"I did give you more time to prepare, not less..." protested d'Arcy.

"Indeed," acknowledged Mr. Bennet. "But neglecting to give us the exact hour of the wedding has left us all a little shaken. Even _I_ had a few doubts... I caught myself really wondering if the wedding would take place and when..."

D'Arcy got the hint and accepted the rebuke.

"I'm sorry if I worried you. As you have noticed it's quite a second nature for me to surprise my fellow human beings. I'm always seeking the advantage that will give me a better and shorter battle..."

"And in military and political matters that's a very good thing, but when family is involved, you should be a little more careful..."

He placed his hand on his heart.

"I'm an old frail man, I could have had a heart attack..."

"As I said, I'm sorry. It won't happen again..."

Mr. Bennet shot him a grateful smile and changed the subject.

"Do you have a preference as to your position?"

"As to my position?"

Mr. Bennet seemed a little surprised.

"Of course your position. At the right or at the left? As you probably know I'll bring both my daughters at the same time to the altar."

He beamed proudly.

"It will be quite a spectacle you can believe me. One being as beautiful as the other..."

He sighed happily before coming back to the problem at hand.

Which was no problem at all but everything was better than letting those two cockerels alone and fighting.

"And one of you will be waiting at the right of the altar while the other will be waiting at the left. As the eldest of my future sons in law, I supposed you would like to have the first choice..."

D'Arcy shook his head.

"It doesn't matter, let the master of Pemberley choose!" said he. "He will have to live here and he will probably want to use that opportunity to present the mistress of Pemberley to those people of import. He has better knowledge of such things here."

Fitzwilliam shot a surprised glance in his direction and nodded.

"Then I'll take the right," said he. "I'll be facing the important people of the County. It will be noticed!"

"Capital, indeed Capital," said Mr. Bennet in a perfect impersonation of Sir Lucas. "What would you say if we got something resembling a breakfast? The wedding being postponed to two o'clock I do believe I will last until what will now be a wedding lunch." he smiled at his sons. "Shall we go?"

* * *

"Impossible!" said Mrs. Reynolds.

"Unseemly!" added Mrs. Bennet and Mary nodded vehemently.

"Shocking, even!" frowned Mrs. Gardiner.

"Surprising, I would say..." commented Lizzie.

"I like it..." exclaimed Kitty.

"It's extraordinary," lauded Lydia. "That man is a genius even in woman's fashion! If Jane hadn't already drawn him into her snares, I would be volunteering..."

Georgiana was just blushing.

Jane looked back at the women folk commenting on her dress.

"How is it? Let me see! Lydia, do uncover that mirror!"

"No you don't," said Mrs. Bennet in an unnaturally forceful voice.

Jane turned around and shot an angry look at her mother.

"I want to see, Mama. After all it's me who is going to wear that dress! I have a right to know..."

Her mother made a face.

"As for wearing that, nothing's sure, yet, dear! I'm still thinking of putting my veto on that show..."

Jane gritted her teeth and looked toward heavens.

"Mama, if you do not uncover it, I swear that I walk directly to the great hall to look at myself in the great mirror there!"

That was a threat indeed and after a few moment's thought she nodded to Lydia who literally flew to the mirror.

Two seconds later Jane could see her –_naked_– back in the mirror's image.

"Oooh... I see..."

"Indeed," said her mother. "And the problem is that you are not the only one who'll see..."

"Come on," said Lydia. "That dress is wonderfully fitted and never would I have thought that seeing a back could be so..."

"Don't say an unseemly word," intruded Mary. "That dress is a whor... Ribble thing!"

For a second it was Mary and not the dress who was the center of everybody's –_frowning_– attention.

Mrs. Bennet was the first to go back to the problem at hand.

"Well let's be organized."

She looked at the seamstresses.

"Can you arrange it?"

All three shook their heads.

The head seamstress sighed.

"It's in and out silk, Ma'am. We would destroy it if we fumbled with it. Never did I see a more delicate sewing job. I couldn't have done it."

"So it will not be possible to change it..."

"Could you change mine to have the same cut as Jane's," asked Lydia. "I'd love it..."

The seamstress opened her mouth to answer but a dark look from all the matrons in the room showed her that an answer was not really required.

"One must say that it is not ugly," commented Mrs. Gardiner. "I wouldn't have thought that shoulder blades could be so handsomely shown off..."

"My Jane is an exceptionally beautiful woman" agreed Mrs. Bennet with a proud smile. "I always knew that she was not so beautiful for nothing..."

"But _it_ is cut way too low..." said Mrs. Reynolds.

"I don't think so," added Lydia as usual unaware of the black looks shot at her. "There's no chance to even guess her..."

"Don't say it," cut in Mrs. Gardiner while advancing and measuring by putting her hand on Jane's back.

Jane blushed furiously when she felt her aunt's hand. Not because she was ashamed of that touch but because she was just imagining _his_ hand at just that special spot. _He_ would not stop there. _He_ would...

"Jane," shouted her mother who seemed to have acquired enhanced gifts recently, "please, be serious. We are gathering to make an important decision not to let you fantasize about your wedding night..."

That brought a nervous look exchange between Mrs. Bennet, Gardiner and Reynolds.

There was also _that!_

God, they would never be ready in time!

"It explains the cape..." said Lizzie who was smothering a smile.

"What cape?" asked Mrs. Reynolds.

"That cape, ma'am," answered the youngest of the seamstresses showing a white silk bundle. "It was in another box..."

"It can probably be clipped somewhere," said Lydia clapping her hands. "What a wonderful idea, Jane. Imagine yourself waltzing like mad and the cape flowing and your back showing and his hands..."

"Lydia!"

That one came from everybody save Kitty and Jane.

"...Holding you chastely," ended she shooting rebellious glances at everybody.

"And then there's the train," added Elizabeth making no effort to smother her new smile. "It can probably be clipped in the same fashion as the cape. So you'll have your back covered whenever you want..."

"And free whenever you want it too," added Lydia with the same rebellious air.

This time, since she was clearly goading them, nobody reacted.

Except Mrs. Bennet who shot her a dark look.

"Another remark like that and the session is canceled for everybody under twenty."

There was a chorus of protests coming from said everybody, Mary included.

"No negotiations here," insisted their mother while looking at Lydia. "And if you do not behave properly, you won't be Jane's bridesmaid. Nobody knows of it so nobody will be upset by not seeing you in the church..."

Now, that was a _real_ threat and Lydia immediately bit down another comment.

It was clear that her comments would no longer be welcomed and so she went into pouting with her usual efficiency.

Mrs. Bennet sighed heavily.

"I must say that I'm quite upset with _monsieur_ d'Arcy. What this young man believes he can ask of my Jane is preposterous."

"He is French," said Mrs. Gardiner. "They do not think the same way we do. Even their bloody revolution didn't cure them of that fault..."

She snorted.

"But I fear we will have no real choice there. We have no substitute, have we?"

The head seamstress made a grimace.

"One of Miss Bennet's white dresses could be remade. But it would never be as beautiful as this one." She looked at the dress with admiring eyes.

"It's just perfect, Ma'am. It fits as if it was painted on Miss Bennet. It would be a crime not to use it..."

"And there's the cape," insisted Elizabeth who clearly was in favor of d'Arcy's dress. It was a beautiful dress and it was clear that the bridegroom went to great lengths to have it made. "With the cape, it's quite seemly..."

"And they look so complementary," said Kitty. "One could believe they have been done by the same seamstress..."

The head seamstress could only nod. Had she such an aide, her business would blossom.

And, indeed, both dresses, seen from the front were perfect matches. White with color inlays that were symmetrical and in matching shades of color but perfectly accommodating to the brides' differences...

"I wonder how he knows everything about everyone," said Mrs. Gardiner. "He seems to have spies everywhere..."

"He gets results," agreed Mrs. Bennet. "And I'm very proud he fell in love with my dear Jane."

She looked at her eldest.

"Jane, dear, we haven't heard you. What would you do?"

Jane who wished and feared that exact question was very ready to answer it.

She loved the dress and she loved even more the fact that to undress she had only to pull and to slide out of it.

It would be marvelously easy to...

She blushed and remembered her mother's question.

"I'm not sure we have a choice, mother. How would he react if I were to refuse to wear the dress he had made for me..."

Now, that was an argument no one could overlook.

Indeed, how would he take it if he were to be so publicly spurned.

Mother and daughter exchanged a long look and they both knew the truth at once.

"That's a real argument," said Mrs. Bennet surrendering to her daughter's wishes. "I fear we should take it into account. We wouldn't want to upset _monsieur _d'Arcy, now would we?"

All could but agree.

It would, indeed, have been a bad idea to upset _monsieur_ d'Arcy.

* * *

After a few seconds turmoil, Mrs. Bennet looked at her sister and at Mrs. Reynolds. They both nodded.

"Well," said Mrs. Bennet. "Everybody under twenty out!" She looked at Jane and sighed.

"Jane, dear, I'm sorry for hurrying everything up, but we need to speak to you. There are a few things you need to know before this evening and you need to know them now!"

The youngest went out giggling and Elizabeth looked as if she didn't know where to go.

"Stay, Lizzie. You won't have anything to say but your presence will help to soothe your sister's nerves..."

Elizabeth sought Jane's eyes and they both smiled. They had spoken the evening before and the

prenuptial meeting had been, of course, a part of it.

And a very amusing part, indeed...

And one point was quite certain, Jane wouldn't have to be as prudent as she, since, for all she new, nothing definite had happened between her and d'Arcy.

Mrs. Bennet clapped her hands.

"Let's begin, we have no more time to waste..."

* * *

1 / Best translated with '_my dear son_' but in a more formal and aristocratic way of address

* * *

**Next chapter: Weddings**

**

* * *

  
**


	56. Pemberley Weddings

On the way to Matrimony, a short detour to Otherwhere and a longer one to Comedy!

* * *

**Chapter 56: Pemberley Weddings**

* * *

**Derbyshire, Pemberley, Sunday the sixteenth August. Twelfth day. **

* * *

After the –_rather strained_– breakfast, Fitzwilliam went to his study and Mr. Bennet to the church to discuss with the reverend the last details of his appearance.

D'Arcy looked at the park and pulled by an inner yearning began to walk towards the Lake. Once there, he began to walk around it.

Kennedy and Kervadec were a few hundred yards behind him and were more than worried when they saw him disappear in what could, from the outside, be called a wood.

They hurried to get him back into sight. But even running, they were never able to close the distance to him...

* * *

He looked at the place he was drawn to enter.

At first he had seen nothing more than a clearing with a spring and a pool.

Then he had looked around him and recognized the age of the oaks who stood all around him. The park at his family estate in Normandy had had an oak planted, so said the tradition, by the first count d'Arcy eight hundred years ago.

And his oak was only half so impressive.

And there were dozens of them.

Shivers began to run up and down his spine.

There was something different about this place. As if it would be somewhere else.

It was extraordinary and mysterious.

He walked to the spring and knelt near the pond to drink the fountain's water.

The water was clear and limpid and, when he drank it, so tasty that he had to wonder if there was not something in the water.

Soon he found that the journey and the short night were taking their toll.

He laid down on the moss near the pond and soon he was asleep.

* * *

"He's the Master of the Isle..."

_chorus: _"The Isle is his..."

"He's blood kin to Him..."

_chorus: _"Brothers soon to be..."

"He's the first..."

_chorus: _"To wield the Power..."

"He's the last..."

_chorus: _"To be so crowned..."

"She who cures is His..."

_chorus: _"Let her come..."

"He must come back for the mating..."

_chorus: _"He'll be with us..."

"He must swear the oath..."

_chorus: _"The oath of Blood..."

"He must be made aware first..."

_chorus: _"The truth be known..."

"He could refuse..."

_chorus: _"Who would refuse?"

"It's his duty..."

_chorus: _"It's not so easy..."

"It's so long gone! They no longer know..."

_chorus: _"He need not know, he needs just to be..."

"It's not the way!"

_chorus: _"The way has changed..."

"It's the great need of the Land..."

_chorus: _"The Land survived..."

"He won't understand..."

_chorus: _"No need to understand..."

"He will not do..."

_chorus: _"The choice is not ours..."

"He's the Master of the Isle..."

_chorus: _"He's the Master of the Isle..."

* * *

d'Arcy woke up, strange voices in his mind.

Soon to be drowned out by other voices. Voices he knew. Voices he heard.

He stood up and went hurriedly out of the grove. If he could judge clearly the encountered more than a little panic.

The voices didn't stop speaking after his departure, he just couldn't hear them any more!

* * *

The church was full.

Full of friends, of family, of neighbors and of uneasy Irish guards.

The two bridegrooms were standing at each side of the reverend who had finally accepted the delay.

After all, a double wedding was an event. A double wedding between two Bennets and two Darcys was even more an event.

And if one took into consideration that one of the bridegrooms was probably the current sovereign of Great Britain even a disgruntled pastor was ready to accept a slight little four hour delay...

* * *

The church's organ began to play when the beaming father appeared at the entrance of the church one of his daughters on each of his arms.

The day was as beautiful as every other day of that extraordinary August. Slowly, basking in happiness, pride and sunshine, Edward Bennet led his eldest daughters to the altar and to the two men who were waiting for them.

It was the last time in his life that he had authority over them and he felt a little sad when he thought of his life without them.

But they were women now and they had the right to fly out of the nest their father had built for them.

After a fashion he was as happy as his daughters.

Clearly they had found men who had been able to win their trust and allegiance.

Darcy would be an easy son, they had already found lots of topics they both enjoyed. And the way he had been able to split the two roosters had been valued by young Fitzwilliam who was not quite sure what to do in front of d'Arcy but who had felt that in an open confrontation he would lose.

Than, indeed there was d'Arcy! He was another matter.

Probably because Edward Bennet was too young to be a real father figure for the French aristocrat. Thirteen years were not enough to get him a real age-based status with Jane's husband. And perhaps also because d'Arcy's experience with his father was a rather negative one...

They could perhaps be friends if d'Arcy found out that one could trust other human beings.

Until today, never had d'Arcy trusted another human being.

Jane was a change there. He could see it in the way d'Arcy looked at her. Yes in certain matters, he would trust Jane. But even with her he would never open up completely.

Edward Bennet sighed but never lost his satisfied smile.

His French son would always be polite and respectful but he feared that they would never build a real relationship.

He was too solitary for that. And too wary with fathers.

He would perhaps change with children of his own. Perhaps...

Those little things could work wonders with a few smiles. Who knew, that would perhaps even touch the soul of that hardened lonely warrior?

Edward Bennet smiled at his wife who, like every other woman of the family was crying happily while he was walking toward the reverend.

They looked into each other's eyes and for the first time in a very long time there was a spark that jumped from one to the other. Like in the old days when not-so-young Eddy Bennet had cheated on young Emma Gardiner to overcome his injured pride...

But then Jane had come and everything had changed.

He winked at the wife he had chosen out of despair and within him an old injury disappeared at once. He felt a tear rolling down his cheek and he called himself an old woman to react as all the women of the clan.

That was the moment when he heard muffled giggles coming from behind.

No, all the women of the family were not crying. The bride maids were giggling like mad and had it not been unseemly to take notice of them, he should have turned to shoot them a stern look.

But then, when would such a wondrous thing happen again?

Could he really be angry with them to be happy when he himself was of a heart to sing and to dance?

Was not this very moment the height of his life?

He was marrying his eldest daughters to two very handsome, very rich and very famous gentlemen. And both of them had had the good sense to love his daughters enough to overcome some very serious hindrances.

Two married, three to go...

Everybody had always praised his eldest daughters and spurned boring Mary, chatty Kitty and savage Lydia. But they came clearly out of the same stock and there was no reason he could not succeed in transforming them into perfect ladies.

Kitty was already halfway there and Lydia would, he had no doubt on _that _point, take every advantage of d'Arcy's Status to fish for an interesting husband.

Mary would probably be a problem because she had really no desire to change.

But then there would be men who would find her sermons and discourses about manners, faith and religion appealing. He had seen stranger things happen.

Another bit of giggling forced him to quit his matchmaking thoughts and to come back to his triumphal march toward the altar.

Let them have their joy, this day was a perfect day and he wouldn't let a little girlish behavior spoil his pleasure.

* * *

Fashion was a matter of knowledge.

To get something known it must be spread as widely as possible.

Since Lydia thought that between two trends it was always better to choose the most endearing, she had decided to take one little fashion problem into her hands.

She had seen those awful attempts to force women into a corset and she had seen the fashion d'Arcy preferred. Between these two opposite trends, Lydia was very settled to smother the corset and to give the "d'Arcy low fall" as she called it, as much promotion as possible.

And that was exactly what she, Emma and Alicia were doing by lifting the train a little higher than was usual...

Kitty and Georgiana being her accomplices on Lizzie's side they had worked to be in symmetry with both trains.

With Lizzie it brought nothing.

But with Jane...

* * *

With each pace toward the altar there was a new wave of comments born in the aisles of the church. Lusty looks from the men and wide eyed disapprobation from the matrons were swelling the holy place with very unusual ripples.

_That_ particular wedding would be in every one's memory for years! And not only because of the presence of d'Arcy or the double wedding...

* * *

At Lydia's signal both trains were lowered and when both brides passed before her mother and family everything was, again, normal.

The maids followed the brides, put the trains slowly down and joined the rest of the family with broad smiles on their faces which could, of course, be explained by the circumstances.

Only Mary who had not been included in the plot had her normal serious facial features.

Lydia's plot could have succeeded totally –she was settled on doing it again while exiting the church-- had not the general female disapprobation swelled enough to reach Mrs. Bennet's and Gardiner's ears.

They knew immediately what had happened and, for the first time in years, Mrs. Bennet was sufficiently angered with her preferred daughter to think about punishment and house arrest. Beginning immediately... after the wedding!

* * *

At the front of the church the details of that fashion battle went totally unnoticed.

The father was just basking in his pleasure and pride and the reverend was just satisfied with the huge crowd that had stormed his little church. The unruliness of most of them made him grit his teeth but he already knew the verses he would use to remind them of the seemly behavior within a church.

The brides were focused on their bridegrooms and the bridegrooms were focused on their brides.

Mr. Bennet gave his daughters to their future husbands.

First Jane because d'Arcy would, of course, move towards her to get her faster and then Fitzwilliam Darcy who just waited till his soon-to-be father-in-law handed him Lizzie's hand.

Both couples turned around and knelt before the altar...

Mr. Bennet looked a last time at his daughters before joining his wife in the first row.

A new series of giggling fits took over the younger members of the family while all the female rows of the church were rippled by comments and whispers. Mr. Bennet could only shake his head at such behavior.

He wouldn't have thought it true but a wedding really seemed to excite every woman in a quarter mile radius.

The only ones who seemed calm –_composed even_– were his wife and Mrs. Gardiner whom he would have seen, a few minutes earlier, shaken by fits of crying...

He shook his head, took his wife's hand and kissed it.

Women were really quite strange creatures!

* * *

Of course he would not wait.

She knew that he would move to come to her. She had read it in his eyes the moment they had looked at each other when she came into the church at her father's arm.

He had looked at her and with each –_slow_– pace she had seen impatience and longing increasing in his features. She had smiled at him and his eyes had shone like never before. He had relaxed for a few seconds and than his impatience was back and his longing and...

She was really happy he had been able to wait till the last moment before coming to her to grab her out of her father's hand.

His hands had taken hers and his eyes had promised her that she would pay for his long wait.

She returned the promise...

* * *

The reverend took a deep breath and began his speech...

* * *

Jane and d'Arcy were wedded first.

She was _madame_ d'Arcy –_Countess d'Arcy to say the truth_– two minutes before Elizabeth became Mrs. Darcy. And, of course, he would not wait nicely to be polite. He immediately went to her and kissed her all the time the reverend needed to wed her sister and Darcy.

Luckily Darcy was so entranced in his own wedding that he saw nothing of his cousin's –_brother's_– awful behavior.

When the reverend invited them to kiss the brides he did as told and never ever knew that d'Arcy had not waited till the reverend's invitation...

Not so the parishioners who whispered and commented and cast shocked looks at d'Arcy's hands roaming under the cape at places where everybody now knew that there was nothing but naked skin...

* * *

Never had he seen such an unruly congregation!

That the French atheist would not accept to behave had been anticipated.

Had he not decided to postpone the wedding without even asking him?

Had he not "invited" him to stay at his Parish house awaiting his good pleasure?

But that his congregation had been worse than even his most unruly Sunday school pupils had been a great disappointment.

It was evident that the devil had been dancing at that wedding and he would have a great deal of work to get his flock again in rows...

He already knew what he would preach to them next Sunday!

They would not come out of...

He stopped as soon as he arrived at the door of his church.

Hundreds –_thousands!_– of mounted soldiers were standing before him, black looks and fierce miens trying to crash what little had survived of his pleasure.

When the French atheist arrived they all stood up on their horses and shouted like mad just before shooting their weapons to the sky...

Two horses were brought by two soldiers who wore enough gold on their uniforms to adorn two papist churches and d'Arcy helped his wife to mount the beautiful white mare just before mounting his black and unruly stallion...

They were both astride their horses when the Darcys came out of his church.

"We'll see you at the wedding lunch, Brother," explained d'Arcy to Fitzwilliam. "Meanwhile I have something to show to my wife... It won't be too long..."

And they galloped away to everybody's surprise.

* * *

"He's coming..."

_chorus_: "He's with her..."

"He'll do it..."

_chorus_: "They'll do it..."

"He wants to quit..."

_chorus_: "He's not yet gone..."

"He's coming..."

* * *

**Next chapter: Pemberley aftermath**


	57. Pemberley Aftermath Epilogue

The last chapter of book one!

* * *

**Chapter 57: Pemberley Aftermath**

* * *

**Derbyshire, Pemberley, Sunday the sixteenth August. Twelfth day. **

* * *

"That man has no education!" grumbled Mrs. Bennet with the strong approval of her Darcy son.

Mr. Bennet who was just studying the –_lengthy_– wedding contract he had signed looked up and smiled.

"Dear, he has perhaps no education but then he can easily compensate for it with the list of his titles."

He went to the end of the document.

"Let me see... Two times Count, three times Viscount, five times Baron and... Let me reckon... Ten, no eleven, times Knight. Quite impressive, don't you think?" He laughed. "Even if Jane gives him twenty one sons, they will all have a title and an estate somewhere in France..."

Fitzwilliam sniffed and forced himself to stay silent.

Being out of France while all his relatives where slaughtered by an angry mob had been quite an impressive bargain. His _brother_ had just had to come back when everything was finished to grab for all the titles and all the wealth of all his dead relatives...

No Glory there, just opportunism...

"I see that you're thinking of your Brother, dear..."

He looked down at Elizabeth who just came back from a lengthy greeting tour of all their guests.

"How can you..."

"The frown, dear, the frown. If you go on frowning with so much disapproval in your mien it can only be because of him..."

"He grates on my nerves..."

"I know and he knows it too, and each time he sees you frown I see him smile... He's getting to you..."

"I'll..."

She stopped him immediately.

"No you won't Fitzwilliam! First he is your brother and second he is the most dangerous man you'll ever encounter. You are a nice and decent man, Fitzwilliam. He is not! He is a dangerous predator who happens to be nice only when he is looking at my sister. And I'm quite sure that he is never ever decent! So, no, Fitzwilliam, you won't!"

"I could..."

"I won't bargain on that issue, dear. I want you alive and well for the next fifty years. So no fighting with your brother..."

Mr. Bennet's voice came from behind them.

"That's sound advice, Fitzwilliam Darcy. Do not be misled by his age. He's as fit as any young man and he has far more experience in killing his fellow men that I wish you to ever have. And, last but not least, he's your elder and as such you owe him your respect..."

"I owe him nothing!" grumbled Darcy. "He's a Barbarian!"

"And when there's a fight between a civilized man and a Barbarian who wins, usually?"

Fitzwilliam shot him a dark look and did not answer.

What was the worst in that matter was that they were probably right. He was dangerous and he was aware of his strength. And Darcy had seen in his eyes that he harbored no scruples.

If they decided to fight he knew who would win.

He would probably only get a thrashing but he would nevertheless have been trounced. And that would do nothing to strengthen his self confidence...

He sighed once more and Elizabeth attacked once more.

"He's really taking pleasure at taunting you, dear. Each time he gets at you, he wins... You should take it more easily. It's not worth acquiring that ugly crease on your brow."

He immediately smoothed said brow which made Elizabeth laugh to tears.

* * *

"Mrs. Bennet, I do believe your eldest daughter is coming back..."

His wife came to his side and he pointed toward the lake.

"See, two horsemen, one white on a white mare the other red on a black stallion. It is them..."

Mrs. Bennet sighed. She was beginning to fear that he had snatched her daughter and went away to his next campaign.

"There we have an impatient son-in-law, dear.." commented Mr. Bennet.

"You mean they..." she remarked drolly.

"I'm sure they..." said he with a smile. "You'll see it in her stride. I'm sure she'll glide over the lawn as if she had wings..."

"They are married, dear, they had a right to do it..." She began to whisper. "And _he_ waited till after the wedding. Fitzwilliam didn't..."

He winked at her.

"Did we?" He smiled and was quite satisfied to see that his wife could still blush at their impatience even twenty-three years after the fact.

"They are all married," added he. "So that is no longer a problem, is it?"

"Indeed not, but then when you speak of impatience, don't forget all the facts..."

He nodded. Indeed there were other facts...

"Which one do you prefer?" asked she after a few minutes looking at the galloping pair.

"Fitzwilliam," confessed he. "He's the son I would have raised. Geoffroy is way too difficult a man to like. Only our Jane could find in her the resources to love such a man. He scares me more than I like to admit..."

"I like them both," said she. "Fitzwilliam is tamer but Geoffrey has that impressive strength in him. When you look at him you see that nothing will ever scare him..."

Mr. Bennet laughed.

"I heard him speak of Lydia and he said that they were cut out of the same cloth since they feared nothing..."

"Don't speak of Lydia! She did disappoint me today... With her schemes, she could have spoiled her sisters' wedding!"

Mr. Bennet puffed.

"Nobody could have spoiled her sisters' wedding! We were all on another planet. I noticed nothing and neither did they."

"The people are spreading rumors like mad..."

"And what? Let them. I'm sure that before the end of this day they all will have seen your daughter's naked back without even a cape to hide it..."

"You can't be serious! Never will Jane accept..."

He smiled at her.

"You'll see dear, you'll see. She is no longer only our daughter! She is a wife now and a wife to the man who chose the very vestment you just spoke about. I'm quite sure that they will choose to shock us and the world before sunset..."

* * *

As soon as he was back with his wife, blue and white mushrooms shot out of the soil everywhere. And so many French soldiers did have an effect on the merrymaking of most. And so it happened that Mrs. Bennet was finally quite satisfied with her daughter's initiative to have her husband for herself those early three hours.

* * *

Within five minutes of her return Jane was with Elizabeth and soon they were joined by the rest of the Bennet sisters and Georgiana.

Nobody asked the question but all knew only by looking at Jane that something had happened and that _that _something had been as satisfying as one could imagine.

"Are French lovers as good as is rumored," asked Lydia.

Jane blushed but did not protest.

Her sisters were young but not so young as to know nothing about life. And what they knew, quite a bit if one asked, they had learned under Jane's tutelage.

"How should I know, Lydia? He was the first and I will probably never have the opportunity to compare..."

Lydia looked at the heavens. Sometimes Jane could be the most annoying of her sisters.

"Of course not! But..." She looked around and began to whisper. "Did he unleash the bliss of sexual satisfaction?"

Jane could only laugh at Lydia's choice of words. If she searched she could probably guess out of which book she found her vocabulary.

"That he did," she agreed. "And he did it more than once..."

That unleashed a salvo of giggles and comments and questions and soon they were all laughing and joking. Even Mary who would not let her usual mood rob her of the fun of the event.

* * *

"May I?"

He turned around and a slight smile blossomed on his lips.

"Of course, aren't you at home?"

"Legally, I'm at your place..."

d'Arcy's smile increased.

"Quite true, quite true. But then legality is such an interesting little piece of cheat work... You wouldn't believe what one can do with a little money and a few politicians in his pocket to get a new very 'adapted' pieces of legislation..." He winked. "Napoleon is a master legislator. He has fathomed everything around that topic... I bit quite a chunk out of that knowledge too!"

Fitzwilliam looked at the little flock of white dresses d'Arcy was looking at.

"They are beautiful, aren't they?"

d'Arcy nodded and his smile smoothed.

"That they are!" sighed he.

"Why so melancholy? Is something troubling your happiness?"

d'Arcy shook his head.

"Nothing. She's even more than I dreamed of... What makes me melancholy is seeing her with your wife."

"How so?"

"I'll move, Fitzwilliam," said d'Arcy forgetting, while lost in his thoughts, his usual arrogant tone. "And when I'm away they won't see each other for a very long time... I fear she will, one day in the future, resent my taking her away from the one person she is nearest..."

"My, my, Geoffrey," laughed Fitzwilliam accepting the opening his brother had just made. "We are really in a melancholic mood..." He looked at his brother's shining eyes. "And violently in love..."

d'Arcy looked Fitzwillilam in the eyes.

"You can't imagine how violently in love. I must force myself to stay here and not run down there to grab her and take her again to that grove..."

"Grove?"

d'Arcy didn't turn and just smiled seeing his wife and Lydia playing a sort of catching game...

"I believe it's the name to use. Lots of oaks around a pool and a spring... And the most extraordinary moss bed you can imagine." He chuckled. "I imagine that's were you took your first love. When I found it I couldn't think of anything else to do about it..."

"Difficult to find?"

"Not for me... My men passed a hundred times before the entrance without even having a hint of what was behind. Me? I just happened to walk into it..." He looked amazed. "I suppose its one of these places you find only if you don't want to enter them... The Bretagne is reputed to be full of them. But it's the first time I personally was granted entrance to one..."

This time he turned toward his brother.

"Seems _my_ estate likes me, Mr. Darcy."

Fitzwilliam could only nod. Indeed his estate seemed to like that odious cousin –_brother_– of him.

He patted said brother on his shoulder.

"I hope you'll stay in that melancholic mood a long time, Geoffrey..."

d'Arcy turned around and looked at Fitzwilliam with surprise in his eyes.

"Why so..."

"Because the non-melancholic d'Arcy is an arrogant, insufferable and obnoxious prick!"

That brought out a laugh.

"You'll take note, Fitzwilliam, that you and Napoleon are of the same opinion! However he said it in Corsican which is a much more inspired language than English..."

Fitzwilliam didn't answer and just shook his head before walking back to the crowd of guests.

Already back to his old insufferable self, indeed.

* * *

"They spoke without hitting each other..."

"Of course they did," said Mrs. Bennet to her husband. "They are both gentlemen and now they are brothers. They won't hit each other..."

"Brothers often hit each other, dear. They need it to establish their place in the family."

"Those two won't need hitting each other to know who comes first. It's obvious..."

Mr. Bennet shook his head and squeezed his wife's hand.

"Those things are never obvious, dear, but the fact that Fitzwilliam went to d'Arcy and that d'Arcy even laughed while they spoke is a very good sign, indeed. Could it be that our younger son has just fathomed the reality of their situation. Won't be easy for young Fitzwilliam but it's far better that he knows where he is standing. He could even learn something from Jane's husband."

Mrs. Bennet looked at him wide eyed.

"You know that I like them both but I do doubt that there is a trace of benevolent teacher in Geoffrey."

"One can always learn by looking at a master's work. And Jane's husband is a master schemer. The only thing I really fear is his ability to make enemies..."

"Grand men do awaken jealousy in lesser men's hearts. I just hope that it will not be the case for Fitzwilliam. The way he reacted yesterday gave me a great fright..."

Mr. Bennet shook his head.

"He's is a grown man and he has Lizzie. He won't let jealousy eat his heart. But I fear that his brother's looming presence will do no good with his self confidence. It's never a good thing to feel one's inferiority..."

Mrs. Bennet pointed toward their daughters.

"Do you really believe that Lizzie and Jane will let such a thing happen? They'll see that their husbands are happy and smug. And jealous bouts are not in their plans..."

"I hope so, dear, I hope so..."

He pulled at his wife's hand.

"Let's go back and bask in everyone's jealousy, shall we?"

"With pleasure, dear, with pleasure..."

* * *

Finally they were alone.

"Now that we can speak openly," said Lizzie. "How was your first experience with your husband."

"Fantastic," answered Jane with shining eyes. "And even if it would have been the most awful experience in my life never would I admit it! Even to my beloved sister..."

"Your sparkling eyes have already betrayed you. Not to mention your springy gait..."

"My springy gait? That's surely an exaggeration, Mrs. Darcy."

"It's not, Madame d'Arcy. You do walk as if these poor sun bleached lawns had springs hidden under them..."

Jane sniffed.

"Well, if that's the case, I see no other solution then to find a place to sit... We wouldn't want all those poor serious people to divine that Geoffroy and I have already bitten said apple..."

"Only the blind under them have not seen it, dear. And since there's nothing more satisfactory in such meetings as this as gossip, I'm sure they have already heard about it..."

Jane smiled at her sister.

"Well then, no need to sit, then... Let's speak while walking to the lake..."

"With pleasure!" answered Lizzie.

They were a few hundreds yards out of everyone's eyes –Maureen and ten other blue and white bodyguards excepted– when Lizzie ask the question that haunted her.

"Could you find the grove?"

"He already knew about it! It's the place he brought me to... And you were right, it was fantastic. Did you try the pool?"

"No, that spring is cold as winter, we had the will to try it but then Kitty and Georgiana called us and we just ran out of time..."

"Indeed? We were so full of ourselves, we felt nothing of the cold. We cleaned ourselves in it just before coming back... I've never felt better in my life! Never!"

"That's because you're a wife and because you're loved! You'll see it will become even better..."

"I hope so, Lizzie, I really hope so..."

* * *

**End of first part**


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